


Symbiosis

by quoll



Category: Crash Bandicoot (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Crush, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Time bomb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-23 13:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 54,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quoll/pseuds/quoll
Summary: "Nefarious was arrogant, aloof, and seemed to have little interest in intermingling with his colleagues unless forced. There was a clear sense of superiority and his attitude could most kindly be addressed as haughty. As far as N Gin could recall, this was the longest he'd resided in the man's company outside of obligatory gatherings..."Everything requires a delicate balance, lest it collapse into itself entirely.(Set during Warped/ Time Twister)Sort of like a prequel to Cause and Effect, I guess.





	1. Commensalism

"Or be _deleted_?"

" _Yeees_." N Gin sighed out, a tad smug as he turned away from the projector rift then wobbled awkwardly as he stepped down from the small platform. He looked over at the man in question who stared at him, and who probably had been for some time. The attention made him suddenly self conscious and doubtful, "Hehe, what's wrong with it?"

His question was ignored, "I liked the little _flourish_ at the end..."

"Oh, thanks I..." He began bashfully then trailed off, realizing the compliment was merely sarcasm. His ears reddened and his brow creased in worry.

Had he said something stupid? Judging by the look given to him, he had. He supposed he had been a bit overeager, and nervous. Having an audience also may have given him a _small_ encouragement to perform and try to show his prowess. But ultimately, it was his chance to earn his superior's favour. It felt like this was his last chance to redeem himself in Cortex's eyes, and it placed such a heavy burden on his shoulders. This was his chance to right his name and get away from his last miserable encounter.

The man before him offered no reply, rather a small smirk in silence, which only irritated him further. He repeated in his head what he'd said and naturally could find better alternatives in hindsight. His confidence wavered. No, you know what? It was a _good_ closer, he'd worked hard on it. N Gin stared ahead, his eyes transfixed on his new associate. 

_Nefarious Tropy_. So little was known of him, other than he was responsible for the Time Twister's creation, and was apparently an old friend of Uka Uka. Nefarious was arrogant, aloof, and seemed to have little interest in intermingling with his colleagues unless forced. There was a clear sense of superiority and his attitude could most kindly be addressed as haughty. As far as N Gin could recall, this was the longest he'd resided in the man's company outside of obligatory gatherings. Tropy rarely paid him time of day. A handful of words had been exchanged between them, and most of those involved how he liked his tea and how he expected it hot before their conferences. It was irritating, but he always complied and felt a small surge of glee when it was approved.

Today, Nefarious was in an especially foul mood. The week prior, he'd had his first actual encounter with Crash, and had his ass handed to him. His ego was clearly bruised and for days he was no where to be seen at all, only the remnants of his time suit lingered behind. There were murmurs around the base that he was dead. When he spontaneously showed up he seemed frazzled, almost shaken, and isolated himself to this little hub, his own personal refuge. He'd sulked around and would project his failure on anyone near him. In short, he was unapproachable, and very unpleasant to be around. Today was the first day he'd come out of his isolation, and only because N Gin needed assistance using the complicated machine. He'd done little to hide his annoyance at the interruption.

All day he'd been impatient, curt, _snide_. None of these were exactly out of the norm, but the others had drawn their distance. N Gin could not afford to be so selective, however. There was more to it than simply needing to use the rift portal. Cortex's curiosity had gotten the better of him, and naturally decided N Gin should be the mediator. Though he genuinely did need assistance to antagonize the bandicoots, it was, at its core, a ploy to try and observe him and report any oddities to Cortex.

"I'm to assume we're through here?" Tropy walked past him with disinterest, pushing him away slightly as his attention drawn entirely to his precious machine. N Gin hadn't realized he was so openly staring and cast his gaze to the ground. Though unfamiliar, he was, for the most part, level with Cortex in terms of power, and therefore respect. It provoked a feeling of hurt, and jealousy. Nefarious had just waltzed in here and was handed everything he could ever desire. N Gin had stood beside Cortex for _years_ and had gained no ground, no favour. If anything, it had slipped since his last failure. The fact he now had two men looming over his shoulder, quite simply, pissed him off.

Though he supposed, when he thought about it, he was being generous allowing them to use such a delicate mechanism. He reasoned it was fair that Nefarious have a say over what they do with it. He wondered if Tropy was aware that Cortex was messing with the machine without his knowledge, but he didn't feel that would be appropriate information to share. He knew they had worked together to make modifications, or at least so he'd heard. Surely, Tropy was aware of the cloning station below his time reactor.

He looked around him. Everything was so sterile, pristine and polished to perfection. Numerous clocks hung around them, many baring unfamiliar symbols and numerical placements. Above them was, what he assumed to be, an illusionary night sky. The stars twinkled lazily, unchanging, unmoving. Distant lilac and indigo nebulae lingered and illuminated the darkness. It was such a contrast to everything else, and he wondered what had been the inspiration for such a serene design. 

There were so many hundreds of mechanisms, switches, various gears and pulleys all working timelessly and seamlessly with one another. Massive raised columns of white and silver glowed with strips of pale orange and yellow. They radiated a faint, pleasant warmth and made the air around them tingle and spark. He could feel the energy pulsating from them as they quietly hummed in their low, soothing drone. This area was small, something of a hub, that was enmeshed to the larger time reactor that many of them, to Nefarious' annoyance, had taken to calling the Warp Room.

In short, it was a masterpiece. He had no idea how it worked, but he wanted to, so _badly_ did he want to. This was his first time actually standing in it. He wished briefly that he and Nefarious were on better terms as colleagues so he could satisfy the endless array of questions whirling within his head. Selfishly, he wondered what events could be changed with such a machine as a small pain ran through his head, the missile constantly reminding him of its presence. N Gin grew aware in his silent reflections that Tropy had forgotten him entirely, absorbed in his work.

He quietly stood by and watched, resting his hands in his pockets while he swayed slightly. N Gin was so easily forgotten when not in plain sight. Despite his tics of laughter or giggling, he was relatively quiet and there had been numerous times Doctor Cortex had forgotten him entirely. The same seemed true for Nefarious as time continued to pass and he still had no idea of his presence. He had to be unaware, he couldn't imagine the doctor tolerating his open stares otherwise.

N Gin tapped his fingers together, at times standing on his tip toes to try and see what exactly Nefarious was doing with the numerous rows of buttons and screens, but making sure to keep a safe distance. He worked so easily, every motion fluid and harmonious. Tropy was, essentially, the polar opposite of N Gin. He was graceful, composed, _witty_... N Gin was none of these things, and never would be. It made him feel another pang of jealousy as and he averted his gaze from the man to again take admiration for the structure around him.

It was truly incredible, this machine. It was like something he had read about in comic books, and though he always dreamed about it he never thought time travel would actually be a real possibility. He'd had no experience with it yet. Cortex had other duties for him, so he spent most of his time alone working on his mech suit. It was the same one he'd used before, and failed miserably. Looking at it carried a stab of regret, of humiliation. His defeat had been so _degrading_ and was still a source of laughter. The vessel was a constant, glaring reminder of his shortcomings, but he swallowed these feelings and worked. His anger, his desperation for approval and retribution, fueled him, and as a result he felt he had created something _marvelous_. He could always make it better, hit harder, move faster- and he did. Surely, this time, he would have the upper hand.

He would never say it, but part of him envied the bandicoots. Their lives were rich and exciting, full of adventure and new challenges. What made him more envious is they had the talents to not only face these challenges, but excel at them. They had no handicap hindering their movement, their function. Even Crash, according to Cortex, was technically mentally retarded, yet he flourished and continuously proved a foil to their plans. This knowledge made defeat even more humiliating. Neither of them seemed to carry anxiety or fear and everything came to them with such great ease. This, among other things, made N Gin loathe the pair. Between these thoughts, and watching Nefarious work so gracefully, it made him feel dejected about himself.

Now he was just making himself sad. N Gin sighed heavily and turned to continue watching Tropy. He started with an odd, nervous sound when he realized that intimidating gaze was fixated on him, possibly for some time. He wondered how long he'd held Tropy's attention. The expression on his face was difficult to place, but there was clearly irritation.

"May I _help_ you?" He raised his eyebrows, his tone irritated, as he turned to face N Gin, rubbing the wrist of his metal arm then shaking it awkwardly. He flexed his fingers then let the arm drop to his side. N Gin tilted his head slightly, curious, as he stared at it. His vacant stare and lingering silence did little for the doctor's disposition. Nefarious sighed and pushed away from the console.

"I have more important tasks at hand than _babysitting_ you. You're dismissed. Leave. _Shoo_." Tropy approached him, staring down at him with that contemptuous expression he so loved to tote about. He sounded so _entitled_ as he waved him off like one would a stray cat. The doctor was not a patient man and N Gin was aware of this, but he was so fixated on the subtle, awkward movements of the mechanical hand he could not offer the proper response. It captured his attention entirely as he scrutinized it, watching the fingers twitch ever slightly and the wrist catch, unable to fully complete its rotation as he shooed him. He heard Nefarious draw in a breath to speak and he cut him off.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

"...What?" Tropy said, a bit delayed and clearly caught off guard by his question.

"It's catching." N Gin pointed out.

"No it's not." He said defensively, as though he were insulted.

"Yes it is." He challenged, "Let me look at it."

He took Tropy's hand in his own. There was some resistance but N Gin stubbornly pulled it back and began to examine it, and to his surprise the man actually _allowed_ it. He rotated the wrist experimentally and felt some resistance, something was off and not allowing the motion to complete itself. He found his eyes wondering along the prosthetic. The craftsmanship was _exquisite_ , so elegant and wonderfully molded. So unlike anything he had ever made, or ever would make. The material, too, was unfamiliar, which excited him at the possibilities of its uses, its adaptability, its potential to be weaponized...

What suddenly enticed him the most were the sensory pads on the tips of his fingers. He'd heard of them, but never actually seen them in person. They were spongy, but firm, and so wonderfully textured. They were supposedly more sensitive to touch than biological nerves, but there was still much debate in the science world of their advantages. He'd never seen ones quite like this and reasoned Nefarious must have made them himself. With the precise, delicate work he was involved in, he assumed they would be something of a necessity.  
N Gin gently prodded one experimentally and delighted as they dipped slightly then quickly rose back to greet him again. A small giggle left him.

" _Stop that_." He quickly withdrew his hand and wiped it on his lab coat, offended. Nefarious lowered his brows and looked at the smaller man in scowling confusion. Naturally, he felt his face redden at the attention, but if he didn't know better he would swear the doctor looked a tad embarrassed, as well. Surely, he was wrong.  
From what he'd gathered of Nefarious, he was very stoic and unfeeling. He found it ironic that he and Doctor Cortex had such contempt for one another, considering they were so very alike. They were foul tempered, dramatic, and possessed an ego so large it left little room for others. However, Nefarious was more... _reserved_ , and therefore, to a very slight margin, more tolerable. He was mature, composed. Elegant, handsome...

He suddenly felt uncomfortable as heat spread up his neck. _Handsome_? He darted his eyes to the side, embarrassed by himself. It _was_ a fair assessment to make, just one that had startled him. He looked at Tropy again. N Gin was now trapped in his awkward cycle of thoughts as he noticed other oddities about the man, such as the fringe of white around his temples and the occasional ivory streak intermingling with his black hair. His expression, though sour, was strangly alluring and there was something hypnotic about the man in his entirety.

Tropy moved with grace as he sighed and took a seat by the large row of monitors, each displaying a different era of time and the various levels of the time reactor. He could see the bandicoots on one, but it barely held his attention. He was very fixated on something else. N Gin stood in place a moment before slowly shuffling to stand near the doctor, but kept in mind to allow a healthy distance between them. His presence was, very obviously, unwelcome. This was punctuated as Nefarious swiveled in his chair to stare at him, his jaw set firm and eyes challenging. It was clear his patience, such a fragile thing already, was nearly worn.

He had never been this close to Nefarious, especially not at a level where he could clearly see his face. Often he was looming over him, but here they were nearly equal. N Gin let out a small, amused noise that most closely resembled a squeak. Tropy had _freckles_ , dozens of them dotting his face. Why was this so cute to him? His heart skipped in his chest, and the sensation left him dazed. He swallowed hard and struggled to wrap his mind around these awkward thoughts playing in his mind. They were intrusive, bothersome, but oddly pleasant.

" _What_ do you _want_?" Nefarious pulled him from his musing, his tone low and the question gritted out as more of a statement. Even in his frustration his tone was smooth. He was clearly exasperated by N Gin hanging around him like some bothersome fly. Tropy was a man of solitude, and he was infringing on that with his ever lingering presence. He couldn't exactly tell the truth, that he was counting the freckles on his face, and tried to think of something else.

"Uh... I'm sorry I'm just... assessing? _Yes_ , assessing the _damage_." N Gin smiled uncomfortably in his embarrassment, "I'm-I'm... doing... um, _maintenance_."

"And?" He goaded him on after a lull of silence.

"Uh, hehe, well, Doctor Cortex wanted me to... _check_... on _you_ , and... see how you were doing." His smile widened with his building anxiety, then added, "A-after what happened, of course..."

He raised a brow, intrigued, and skeptical, "Well you can assure _Doctor Cortex_ that I'm fine and _perfectly_ capable of caring for myself."

Another airy, squeaking sound left him as he thought aloud, "Hhn, well _yes_ , but uh... it's just that... It's my job to maintain our machines."

"I think you'll notice that _I'm_ not a machine." 

"Your arm is." N Gin challenged, his tone bordering playful.

"I said I can do it myself." He was getting aggravated, perhaps even flustered.

N Gin gave him a skeptical look, smirking some and forgetting his place, "Then why haven't you?"

He lowered his brow more with a sneer. Tropy rolled his eyes and parted his lips to speak but no words came forth. N Gin chuckled inwardly, watching knowingly as he tried to salvage some excuse. To placate him, he added, "I'm just offering to help you out."

It was completely self serving. He didn't really care much about Nefarious' comfort or impairments, and Cortex's orders were distant in his mind. He really just wanted a closer look at that arm. Prying on Nefarious' work and gleaning information from him for his superior was just gravy.

"You could... watch the monitors and make your adjustments while I fix your hand, it should only take a minute. I-I have an idea what's interrupting its cycle..." He tapped his fingers together. Nefarious was still unconvinced. So _badly_ did he want another look at that arm and have a better understanding of its inner-workings. N Gin pondered a moment then looked up at him hopefully. Nefarious was so impatient, so obsessed with every minute that slowly ticked by. He anxiously added, "J-just think of how much _time_ you'd be saving if you let me help you while you're working."

Nefarious shot him a dubious look. Surely he had to know he was playing him, and for a moment he thought the doctor would throw him out. He stretched his arm out experimentally and N Gin flinched involuntarily, expecting the worst. But it never came. Tropy paused briefly in his motions, then relaxed his arm on the chair rest. He sighed, defeated, " _Fine_."

N Gin let out a low titter as he murmured to himself excitedly and withdrew the utility tool from his coat pocket. It was a multi-tool he'd made himself. He considered it a necessity and always carried it with him, as he never knew when he would need repairs of his own. He felt so delighted and bubbly as he stared down at the complex mechanism. Where would he start? Usually he began by completely dismantling something, but he didn't feel Nefarious would much appreciate this. A part of him really wanted it for his own to hoard and experiment on. The material was so unique and light, but sturdy, that the prospects of working with it were enticing. But what was it? The texture, the sheen, the faint metallic smell, all were unfamiliar. He realized that he was, again, staring and cast a worried glance up towards the taller man. 

Nefarious had turned from him and was absorbed in one of the monitors. He glared at it in his concentration and paid N Gin no mind. With this he felt he had a free pass to take his time and indulge in his curiosities and admiration. Bronze plating and silver tubing intermingled on top of a heavy dark metal frame. Based on the thin build alone, he quickly reasoned it was fragile, and it better explained to him why he wore that bulky gauntlet. He would not readily admit to anyone that, for a while, he thought it was just a tacky watch to match his ensemble. 

His fingers were so long and slender, so elegant, especially compared to his own small stubby hands. He found himself drawn to the sensory pads again and squeezed them. They were so wonderfully soft and spongy and it filled him with another wave of glee. It was like a stress relief ball, only much firmer. Another pleasantry is, unlike the rest of his arm, these held faint pulses of warmth. He prodded them again, and again. 

Nefarious' fingers twitched in his hands and the man was staring down at him once more, " _Why_ do you keep doing that?"

"To... test your... _reflexes_." He lied awkwardly and avoided the man's gaze, pretending to be very absorbed in his 'assessments', "E-everything looks good here..."

Nefarious narrowed his eyes, skeptical, "You're _playing_ with them."

"Hehe what? No I'm not, don't be ridiculous..." He mumbled sheepishly and hurriedly began working on the task before him. His face flushed and he knew Tropy was still scrutinizing him, but he would not risk a glance. N Gin let out a small sigh of relief as the man turned from him, slowly, to resume his work. He resisted the urge to palpate his fingers again.

He hoped there were no sensations within the confines of his arm, otherwise this would be horrendously uncomfortable for the both of them. He used one of the thin extensions from his multi-tool and nestled it between the small gap created by the separation of his hand from its metal frame. In here he could catch a peek of the multitude of wires nestled closely to one another. As he'd thought, there was resistance and he flexed the man's wrist experimentally, feeling the slight, gradual pull of something within. He couldn't see what he was doing, so it would be tricky, but he didn't mind. It just allowed him more time to explore and learn. His stomach fluttered oddly as he realized he was holding Tropy's hand.

As he worked on the component he traced his fingers experimentally over the elegant curves, the dips, the thermal vents, and metal coils. He was enchanted by its design. A faint, glowing green could be seen through the crevices. It was placid, alluring. It was oddly exciting being so close to such a beautiful machine, even if it was just a prosthetic. It was the most complex item of its kind he'd ever seen, and he was so curious about it. N Gin could stare at it for hours, poking and prodding, taking it apart and putting it back together. He would love to find ways to modify it, perhaps install some sort of discreet weapons system...

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Nefarious asked dryly and stretched his fingers to test N Gin's handiwork. He gave an shrill giggle in response, startled at the attention and suddenly nervous. How embarrassing to be caught essentially fondling someone's arm. 

He tried to play it off and so asked in genuine curiosity, "Ah I was just wondering... did you design this yourself?"

"Yes. I designed it, built it, and attached it."

"I-it's very nice..." He muttered in admiration as he wiggled the tool in his wrist, shifting it ever slightly to try and find the troublesome spot, "I've never seen one like it."

"And you?"

N Gin looked up at him questioningly and Nefarious motioned to his face casually. Yes, he supposed it was rather obvious, wasn't it? He briefly felt a strange sense of camaraderie in that they were both augmented, that they were cyborgs. It was silly, but it made him feel momentarily close, and possibly understood. But it was fleeting, as he remembered this was not the case, and likely never would be.

"Yes. There as an... accident, and I turned the missile into a life support system." It was vague, it was almost always vague. Though he was deeply proud of his accomplishment, it was tarnished with the trauma of the event and the implications that followed. His life had changed so drastically. N Gin suddenly felt anxious as he thought about it. He had gone from being a leader in defense, running his own labs, his own crew, to... _this_. His anxiety was compounded with guilt. He should be grateful to Cortex for the opportunity. N Gin creased his brow and glared at the hand before him as he worked, thankful that Nefarious could not see the hurt on his features.

There was an intrigued sound from the doctor as he sat up some. This simple statement had apparently ignited something. His voice was lighter, perhaps even bordering excited, "And just how did you do that?"

His stomach fluttered again. He never would have thought such a tone would be possible from someone like Nefarious, and much like his freckles, he found it strangely cute. As he mulled over the question he decided he didn't want to answer, and he didn't want to talk about it, "Hehe, i-it's too much to explain. I-I need to concentrate..."

Fear, angst, anger... these were not becoming feelings to have when talking to your superior. This man surely wouldn't interested in such a story, as his work was honestly mediocre compared to Tropy's accomplishments. He would just be embarrassing himself. 

To his relief, Nefarious dropped it and allowed him to work in silence. After a time he'd found the troublesome spot and moved over the pesky wires that had been trapped between a cylinder. It was funny how something so small, so simple, could have such consequences on the system as a whole. It had been in such an awkward, delicate area that he didn't think the doctor would have ever reached it on his own, though N Gin was certain that he would find a way. He knew little about Tropy, but he knew he was persistent, and stubborn, based on the conversations between he and Cortex he'd eavesdropped on.

He flexed his wrist, finally able to complete one fluid motion, and stretched his fingers, seemingly pleased, "Not bad. It isn't perfect, but it isn't bad."

"Thank you, sir." He bobbed his head in approval with a smile to match. He would take the compliment to his work, and naturally it went to his head and filled it with warmth. N Gin was complacent, but it soon changed over into unease when he realized Nefarious was still staring at him. He met his gaze accidentally and could not look away. The little cyborg felt trapped under his scrutiny. It made him nervous and in turn he drummed his fingers together, willing himself to disappear. He knew how apparent his anxiety was and found himself holding his breath to repress any odd tics or sounds that would surely make his situation worse. Had he done something to displease him?

Tropy narrowed his eyes in a glare and N Gin practically withered under his gaze, drawing into himself and cowering some. Be it out of anger, or curiosity, it was still just as unnerving. After what felt like an eternity, it softened slightly, "You're very different from Cortex."

That was it? _That_ was what he was so anxious about? He almost felt angry at Nefarious for getting him so worked up, but he couldn't help but give a small chuckle of relief. N Gin wasn't sure how to respond to the statement. He knew they were indeed very different. He was both his superior's anchor when he was becoming too unhinged, and his bane because of his own need for methodical planning and attention to detail. 

When he offered no response, Tropy continued, "I'm just surprised, is all."

"What uh... what were you expecting?" N Gin asked curiously. That frightening flutter returned at the knowledge Nefarious had been thinking of him, even briefly.

"I suppose I was expecting you to be an incompetent, bumbling ass, much like the good 'doctor' himself..." It appeared as though he wanted to say more, so much more, but he held his silence and instead looked at N Gin expectingly.

He stood by uncomfortably. There was always much to say about Cortex, even he had been guilty of this. But with Tropy it felt different, there was such a strong, genuine, thread of animosity and it made him uncomfortable for two reasons. One is because this was his superior, and he would like to believe his friend. Cortex, though difficult to work with, had done much for him and been there at one of the most desperate times of his life. In turn, he felt a sense of dedication to the man. However, the second reason is because a very small part of him he kept buried deep within _agreed_ with Nefarious.

He suddenly felt paranoid that Cortex could hear them and even knew his thoughts. It was a running fear of his in the back of his mind, and encouraged him to say little that could be construed as negative. Nefarious was so cocky to say such things, so openly as well, and he knew of several instances the two were purposefully antagonistic towards the other. It was mostly petty squabbling, but the emotions behind these arguments were real. N Gin pondered. Who was Nefarious to say such things? Was it not Cortex who was the right hand of Uka Uka, and who ultimately had the final say? His loyalty to his superior gave him a false sense of confidence. In all technicality, Tropy was under Cortex, and as such he wondered if he was jealous. N Gin wanted to call him on this, but any feeling of boldness wavered under that stare.

Instead he took a different approach, the words coming out awkwardly in a sheepish tone, "Have you tried maybe... getting to know him?"

Tropy tilted his head some in curiosity, narrowing his eyes, but offered no response. The lull of silence made him anxious, and compelled him to keep talking to fill it, "Doctor Cortex isn't... isn't _that_ bad. He can be difficult but he knows what he's doing. Y-you... you know you should really show him more respect..."

A small, distant voice in the back of his mind implored him to shut up.

"I-I mean... he's _technically_ your boss. B-but if you talk then maybe you would see you actually have a lot in common and, uh, hhn... " He trailed off with an awkward wheeze as Tropy was suddenly to his feet and towering over him. He quickly realized his mistake when he noticed the man's face was set in anger. He was very clearly pissed, and offended. N Gin gulped and slowly wrung his hands. He felt suddenly vulnerable under his scrutiny. Nefarious was twice his height and had a volatile temper with strength to match. 

What was odd about this scenario was the silence between them. Nothing was happening. Nefarious was quick to anger and had no problem degrading and blaming those beneath him. So why was this situation suddenly different? Maybe he was being given grace for fixing his hand, but regardless as to the reason behind it he needed to leave this situation before he made it worse. He had spoken out of turn, and made such a grave mistake as a result.

"I-I should go." N Gin said quietly but found himself rooted in place under Nefarious' stare.

"Yes, you should." He replied coolly. Tropy took a step back and this seemed to break whatever hypnotic hold he had on the smaller man. N Gin continued to stare at him as he shuffled back, wary of his intentions. He could sense something simmering under the surface, but no action was being taken. He wasn't sure what aspect of this scenario made him more anxious, the knowledge that he'd incensed the man, or that he was purposefully restraining something. What was his motivation?

He didn't want to risk spoiling his good favour and quickly, ungracefully, shuffled off to the transporter that lead out of the hub. Nefarious was still staring at him, he was sure of it, but he would not chance a look behind him. The light around him was warm as it engulfed him. It was soothing and for a moment made him forget his stress, his worries, and the embarrassment he'd just put himself through. He wanted to stay in it forever, but naturally it could never last. Cold air rushed over him as he stood in the time reactor. 

This place, too, was placid. An eternal sea stretching beneath it only accented by rows of billowing clouds. Stars dotted the sky and reflected on the still surface of the water. As he understood it, this place existed in its own pocket of time. He was curious of its origins, its whereabouts, and what lay beyond the expansive sea below, but he felt those were curiosities that would never be satisfied. N Gin sighed inwardly, lingering in the serene solitude another moment before leaving through the rift that would return him to his own timeline.

The air was much colder here and sent a shiver through him. It was their base, of sorts. It was makeshift, salvaged from the ruins of Cortex's destroyed space station. The body had been mangled and torn by a Brio's laser, but the main hub remained mostly intact upon impact. If it were not for this, and a convenient dwarf moon to catch them, both he and Cortex would probably be dead as a result. N Gin, himself, was particularly resilient but even he couldn't tolerate burning up in the earth's atmosphere. 

It was not ideal, and was rather small, but it was familiar, secure, and had most of what they needed in one location. He looked out the massive observation window and could see earth before them. It was always strange, surreal, to look at it from such an angle. It was, in a way, humbling. 

The small station would not be permanent, and they would have to abandon it soon due to gradually failing life support and lack of energy, but for now he took a solace in where he was. The low drone of the little hub was soothing and made him feel sleepy as he stared out the window at the expansive sea of stars. He had always loved space.

The lack of gravity on the moon's surface was another bonus. It allowed him to make modifications with such great ease to the giant vessel he was building. It was truly one of his greatest designs and he was immensely proud of it. Even Cortex had given him a wisp of an approval, which naturally inflated him with such jubilation it took him days to stop smiling from it. Even now as he thought of it his ears reddened, he grinned, and he felt such pride, such confidence, such a great sense of security that this would be his time to _right_ himself. 

"Find anything?" Cortex stood beside him, sharing a small moment of calm between them as he followed N Gin's gaze towards earth.

N Gin regarded him kindly, still smiling some as the residual praise clung to his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a small squeaking wheeze of uncertainty. His mind blanked. What had Cortex wanted? He stared dumbly before remembering what it was he'd originally gone for. Yes, he wanted information on Nefarious, and about the Time Twister. He wanted to know how it worked and how its power could be harnessed. Cortex craved this information because it could be applied to another long worked theory of his, something about inter-dimensional travel.

He realized that he had been successful at neither. Suddenly all that came to mind about Tropy was how many freckles he had, the stark white hair around his temples, how his fingers so carefully twitched as he concentrated on his work... These fleeting thoughts made his stomach knot and his mouth suddenly dry, "U-uh..." 

Cortex stared at him with expecting eagerness. N Gin let out another oddly shrill, wavering sound, "I uh, I delivered the message you wanted me to..."

Seeing his superior's expression fall and brow furrow goaded him to quickly add, "I-I tried to talk to Doctor Tropy, but he's not very social." 

"Then you'll have to find a way to _make_ him be social."

"Have... you considered talking to him, sir?" N Gin had asked the same of Nefarious, so he felt it only fair to double his misery.

Cortex looked at him like he was stupid and chuckled lowly, "Oh, _believe_ me I have _tried_... Find a way to talk to him, I want to know what I'm dealing with."

"Ah I don't... think that's going to happen." N Gin narrowed his eyes and chuckled some, conveniently leaving out the fact he had thoroughly pissed the man off. There was no way Tropy was going to want to talk with him and he considered himself lucky to have left the situation unscathed. He didn't want to play mediator between the two of them, "I think he wants to be left alone."

"It isn't a request." Cortex said simply and watched him, his curiosity apparent. His tone was teasing, almost playful, as he spoke, "You're _hiding_ something. You know I don't _like_ when you keep secrets..."

"No, it's..." He wasn't, or at least not really. The longer he thought of Tropy and their confrontation, the more jittery he felt inside. He knew he appeared anxious, he was so terrible at hiding his rapidly cycling emotions as it was, "I'm sorry, master Cortex. I'm... just distracted. I have a lot on my mind."

That much was true. He was excited to earn his superior's favour, his grace, but he was terrified of failure. Though he was so certain and confident of himself right now, his anxiety and the reminder of past events, past failures, spoiled this. His hands shook and he balled them into fists to hide his nervousness. Cortex knew what he was referring to, and seemed appeased, for now.

"Think of how _humiliating_ it was the last time you went up against them. You were defeated by _fruit_..." He looked at him sympathetically, but it felt patronizing.

N Gin sneered, he was so tired of constantly being reminded of this, and it made him rapidly lose his composure. It always made him feel so desperate to explain and defend himself, "He-he _crammed_ it into my exhaust system! And my ship _overheated_! I-I still don't understand how... he-he _knew_ \- and then t-the-the _explosion_ -"

"I'm _just_ saying..." Cortex interrupted him. He was quickly becoming hysterical, and it was clear his superior did not want to deal with that, "Let's not have a repeat of last time, hmm?"

Cortex gave him a confident look, but all it did was make him feel embarrassed and uncertain, it made his own excitement and confidence ebb into dread. He listened to the retreating steps of his superior and turned to look out the observation window again. 

In the glass he could see his reflection, and it bothered him. He looked pitiful, hunched over and wringing his damn hands with a look of perpetual angst on his features. Again, he reflected on his life and the decisions he had made to get to this point. He dangerously wondered what it would be like had the accident never happened. Would Cortex be a client of his? At his prime, he had the best weapons on the planet, and the thought of Cortex working _with_ him was enticing. But, he reminded himself he should be grateful for this opportunity. He was too unstable, too broken, to carry on the kind of life he had before now. Cortex had reassured him of that during his recovery, and he knew he was right. It did not ease the sting, however.

He glared at himself, hurt, but that changed over to curiosity as he peered closer at his reflection. A few of the screws holding on his face plate were a bit jutted, probably due to the sudden change in atmosphere. He sighed some and reached into his coat pocket then stopped. N Gin patted himself, checking the pockets of his slacks, and every inch of his lab coat. He stopped suddenly and sighed again, this time more of a low whine of frustration. N Gin rested his head against the cool glass in defeat. He had forgotten his multi-tool in the hub of the Time Twister, and left it with Nefarious.


	2. Predation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind words and feedback, it's always appreciated :)

He'd been sitting in here for some time, at least a few hours judging by how stiff he was. Originally he had come in here to rehydrate a snack then get back to work, but when he sat down he found his thoughts drifting and they'd quickly consumed him. He had been up all night working on his vessel but found his mind constantly wandering to his new associate, and how to get into his good graces again. It wasn't as though he cared so much about his opinion, or even collecting information for Cortex- he wanted his utility tool back. 

N Gin drummed his fingers as he thought, looking up towards the ceiling of their makeshift galley as though searching for some kind of inspiration. The only thing he could recollect is he enjoyed tea, a very particular way, and he had an infatuation with time that rivaled his own interest in ballistics. He clucked his tongue and sighed as he folded his arms on the counter top and rested his head against them. The raised screws poked painfully into the softness of his arm and made him recoil slightly. 

This was so irritating. He _really_ needed that tool back before the plate actually became loose. That would open a whole other world of turmoil. N Gin couldn't help but scowl at how petty Tropy was being by withholding it from him. He grumbled to himself while he wracked his brain. Right now the thought of doing something _nice_ for him, practically _rewarding_ him for being an _ass_ , made him feel stressed. But, there needed to be some sort of peace offering made, and it wasn't as though he could just show up to the man's lab without purpose.

A soft whine of frustration passed his lips as he swung his legs idly from the chair he sat in. Did they even have anything in common to talk about? It mattered little, his mood was so sour that bonding would be impossible. What about cheering him up? Maybe he liked jokes? He didn't know many good ones as it was... The longer he thought, the more that painful tugging in his core grew, and the more silly he felt. Nefarious was so aloof and difficult to read. The thought of him actually laughing, let alone _smiling_ , seemed foreign but the idea of it made his stomach twist and knot in a wonderful way. He sighed and slumped in his chair a bit.

At the risk of sounding like the man in question, so much precious time was being _wasted_ , time he should be devoting solely to his mech. Instead, he was trying to figure out a way he could suck up to Nefarious to get back a glorified screwdriver. Were things not left to hang so uncomfortably he wouldn't even be in this predicament. Years of working with Cortex had shown him that rationality and civil discussion between colleagues was not always the best approach, even if it was the most obvious. A little something extra never hurt, right?

N Gin caved to his wandering mind and finally slid off the chair, awkwardly stumbling as he was pulled to the side. He managed not to fall this time, thankfully. There was nothing else he could think of so he put a kettle onto the small hotplate and watched it intently as he leaned against the counter. It was the only thing he had ever done that was remotely acceptable to the man thus far, so he may as well go with it.

Nefarious liked his tea such a particular way. It wasn't much of a surprise since he was so meticulous about everything. Everything was always neatly arranged in the same position, the same place, each time they had their meetings. His methodical routine was ordered, and therefore predictable. Papers at his center, neatly arranged, with a pen on the right and gently steaming tea on the left. Everything was symmetrical and he would constantly scrutinize it and make slight adjustments while he listened to Cortex drone on. He would drink his tea and his face was so expressive if it wasn't just to his liking, but was reserved and stoic when it was right.

N Gin chuckled to himself at the thought the man had something of a cat's tongue. Water he, himself, found lukewarm earned scowling displeasure and complaints it was scalding. Even in the embarrassment of the moment, it was amusing. It was just another oddity that he found strangely adorable. He found himself with another perturbed feeling inside- he had been watching Tropy more intently than he did any of the others, Cortex included. This sudden revelation made him uncomfortable but the kettle's building howl plucked him from his thoughts and drew him back to the moment. The feeling lingered in the back of his chest as he took the kettle off the hotplate and gathered up an appropriate vessel to house it.

As he poured the water into the thermos he wondered how he should proceed. Tropy liked all kinds of teas, but the last weeks before his isolation he had a fairly steady rotation of three in particular. There was so little left in the small canisters the doctor had given him, so he made due by making a hodgepodge of honeybush, rooibos, and pu-erh. He stuffed the mixture into the little tea ball and watched it bob around in the thermos he'd prepared, along with a bit of honey he'd salvaged. It smelled strange, but all tea did to him.

He peered at it closely in the thermos and inhaled deeply. It was grassy, earthy, and reminded him of those last warm days towards the end of fall. It gave him a such a deep warmth in his chest, and his head. The sensation was momentarily cozy, then aroused a pang that likened to deja vu as its sharp heat and vegetal scent irritated his nose. It burned his sinuses as it tickled his sensitive nasal passage painfully and he suddenly sneezed, sloshing a bit of the liquid on himself. He was left briefly stunned, nose running and hot liquid quickly cooling against his skin. That was not the problem, he could easily wash his clothes. The issue was he had just sneezed all over what he was going to present as a peace offering.

He drummed his fingers on the side of the thermos, a small nervous wheeze leaving him as he glanced around. He couldn't make more, _no_ , he had used everything and packed it greedily into that swaying mesh ball. No one had seen, so no one had to know... it was just a _little bit_ of spittle, and _most_ of it had missed the thermos after all. He placated himself with various excuses as he slowly screwed the lid onto it and tucked it under his arm. What Nefarious didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 

The trip to the reactor was rushed and short, but he took his time to admire the quiet around him. He leaned over the edge of the reactor's platform, resting his stomach against the raised rim, to look down at the expansive sea. N Gin found himself wondering what lay under its surface. Of course the time reactor extended down below, possibly infinitely, but he was curious if anything actually _lived_ here. He'd considered sprinkling food in the water, but imagined the scolding he would receive wouldn't be worth it. 

N Gin leaned over the edge more to peer closer. If he focused hard enough he could see the faint green lights of a slowly rotating apparatus underneath. He watched it for a while until it completed its sluggish orbit and was only more intrigued by how far down the structure went. Faint, muffled groans and hums of machinery would occasionally drift through the quiet. They were eerie, but serene. He loved the sound of machinery working in such perfect harmony, and would really love to see what kind of marvels lay towards the bottom... 

In his curiosity, he leaned too far and ruined the delicate balance. His missile pulled him forward and his feet left the security of the ground. He was tipping- he couldn't _swim_ \- he would _sink_. With a panicked, shrill, wheeze of obscenities, he wobbled and jerked himself back violently. He stumbled ungracefully before losing his balance entirely and falling. The missile met with the metal floor, a loud, sharp clatter echoing around him. It was excruciating and the sound carried what felt like an eternity before it was lost to the sea. His head was throbbing now, sharp stinging pains biting at his skull. He swallowed hard and clutched the thermos to him, as though it would somehow bring him comfort. It left him feeling stunned and shaken, his breath wavering as he slowly got to his feet and oriented himself. He would have sworn it felt like he had been pulled back but there was nothing here that could have countered his weight. Maybe he was just imagining things in his panic. He hadn't slept in days after all and took it as his sign that was enough and he needed to get to actual reason he'd come here. He shuffled over to the transporter, this time keeping his eyes forward so he wouldn't deviate from his path again. 

It was so warm in the hub, more so than yesterday. The soothing drone of the towering columns and cohesively united machinery made his anxiety from the recent event ease off. He shuffled slowly ahead, taking his time to look around. He paid little mind to where he was going as he admired the structure around him. The platinum metal of the walkway thudded lowly as he waddled along. Like yesterday, he felt uneasy at its structure. Though the floor was solid and steady, there were massive fissures on either side of it. The floor did not connect to the expansive walls. As far as the design, he pondered it may be for better air circulation, as the air coming up from below was cool, such a delightful contrast to the buzzing warmth of the rest of the area. The emptiness, the open ceiling and the abyss below were intimidating, but alluring. The only thing that penetrated the darkness below him was the occasional blinking light or brief flash. He wanted to know what was down there, but that fall seemed endless. He backed away from the edge, as he'd likely used up his good fortune catching himself earlier. He didn't need to try his luck a second time. 

There was so much to take in that by comparison, yesterday had been but a glimpse. How long had it taken Nefarious to build something like this? Did he have help? Surely, someone of his apparent esteem would have his own crew to command, yet here he was, alone. There were so many things beyond his understanding and Tropy purposefully kept himself withdrawn. He wasn't sure how he would glean any information from him at this rate.

There was discomfort in his interest. He had been curious about the man since he first arrived but between other duties and intimidation, he had kept his distance unless mandated otherwise. Now that he was willing to seek him out on his own, he was no where to be found, and he actually found himself disappointed. As he realized the presented opportunity, he then reasoned this may not be such a terrible outcome. 

He used this time alone to dawdle around, carefully checking the area he had been in yesterday. There was nothing on the floor he could find and the drawers of the various consoles were empty, save for folders, trinkets, and some other bobbles. He tapped his fingers against the warm thermos as he thought. The entire area produced numerous interests, but not what he was actually seeking. He nervously glanced towards that abyss again while he shuffled about. What if it had fallen down there somehow? Then he would never get it back... In the mean time he could keep using a regular screwdriver, but when it came time for actual repairs and overhauls it would become an issue. He would have to ask Nefarious about it. The little wisp of hope he could avoid a confrontation dissolved entirely.

In his thoughts he slammed into one of the consoles and knocked over a stack of papers. He glanced down at them, nervously sputtering incoherent whispers to himself as he began to pick them up absentmindedly. Naturally, he peeked through their information while he collected his mess. The majority were just musings and ideas, to do lists, complex formulas that he struggled to understand. A few in particular, however, were sketches and drafts of odd devices. All of them looked like clocks, but the inner components were so advanced. Clocks were not his forte but _surely_ they weren't so complex. He flipped through the pages and noticed there was nothing written on them in explanation, only elaborate, deconstructed diagrams. The lines were so meticulously neat and precise it made him feel vaguely ill with annoyance.

His attention was quickly swayed to the large row of monitors before him, a sudden flash glinting from one of the screens catching his eye. N Gin sat what few papers he'd gathered off to the side and made his way over to the device, peering up at it curiously. It was such an overwhelming amount of information to take in at once, and he wondered how Tropy managed anything with so much stimuli constantly going on around him.

The console resembled the massive, towering screen in the time reactor, only on a smaller scale and split into numerous quadrants to display different readings. The simple levers were replaced with rows of buttons and touch screens, each having a very particular function, he surmised. He didn't know what any of them did and resisted the urge to play around with them. While the thought of causing some sort of terrible catastrophe or explore what lay ahead was exciting, but he didn't really want to be caught up along with it when things ended badly.

He glanced around to make sure he was alone and sat in the large chair that Nefarious had been in yesterday, sighing contentedly. It was so comfortable and he felt some kind of a thrill being here. It was like when he would set in Doctor Cortex's chair in his master study, leaning back and resting his boots on his desk. He would admire his surroundings and bask in the lavish adornments. There had been a few times he had even drank his wine and for a moment indulged that the esteem was not really his. To momentarily relive that which he had lost was more decadent than the wine coating his tongue could ever be.

The comfort allowed the lingering sleepiness to emerge as he watched the gentle flicker of the row of monitors before him. His gaze trailed over the various segments of time, ever looping in their isolated moments to ensure they could harness the crystals with minimal interruption from other events. But so far they had been unsuccessful. Nearly a year of planning and effort had been undone in a matter of months and was continuously unraveling. Everything was steadily spinning out of control.

But _he_ would be the one to fix things, he was _certain_ of it by this point. That reassurance, along with the warmth of the room, made him feel pleasantly woozy. He closed his eyes and nestled into the chair, wondering why Cortex didn't just have him detonate the entire island to rid themselves of the bandicoot problem. He certainly had the explosives for such a simple task. But it would be too easy, he mused, and he knew the good doctor wanted to eradicate them himself. Cortex wanted that intimate final moment, that deep satisfaction of _winning_. A small part of him wondered, too, if he enjoyed the conflict, the drama, the _chase_.

His thoughts became fuzzy as that sleepy feeling settling over him made concentration nearly impossible. He would just rest his eyes for a moment and collect himself while he waited for Nefarious. The quiet drone around him soothed the anxiety clinging to his chest and the warmth from the thermos he held was also relaxing. He yawned and sighed, lids fluttering to try and focus again on the screens before him but his eyes were heavy, defiant, and he could will them open no longer. N Gin succumbed to their weight and settled back into the chair comfortably, his legs dangling over the edge and swaying ever slightly as he dozed off. In this moment, among the warm hum of the generators, the glowing columns, and the soft flickering screens, he had found solace.

It was short lived, as the next thing he knew he was sprawled out ungracefully in the chair as it spun around sharply. He let out a startled murmur of confusion and wiped the drool off his face. N Gin blinked, dazed, eyes still heavy and blurry with the yearning of rest. It felt like he was dreaming and the entire situation was very surreal to him in his disorientation. He must have fallen asleep, and judging by the drool dried to his face and crusting his sleeve, he had been for a while. In a way he felt like he'd traveled through time, as well as been hit by a bus. Napping had never been his strong suit. He rubbed his eye, taking his time to tiredly massage his face after and then run his hand through his messy hair. Waking up was a slow and unflattering process for him as he yawned again. The warm fuzziness in his mind suddenly became distant as he remembered he had not woken up on his own. In a delayed fashion, he turned his gaze upwards and was greeted by Nefarious looming over him.

" _Comfortable_?" Tropy said quietly with a sneer and noted his tired, dazed expression, "Ah, how rude of me to interrupt your nap time. I must be mistaken. You see, I was was under the impression that this was _my_ laboratory..."

He quickly withdrew into himself as Nefarious leaned over him, hand gripping the headrest that N Gin was too small to actually use. Clearly he wasn't thrilled to find him napping and drooling in his chair. It dawned on him that he was completely trapped and it sparked anxiety once again. Nothing about this scenario was in his favour. Here he was, defiantly present without invitation, or want, after having been effectively kicked out yesterday. The mess of papers he'd created earlier and forgotten about was still strewn about in the floor .The diagrams were splayed on top, having clearly been deliberately stacked. It was obvious that someone had gone through them, and Nefarious would have been an idiot not to notice. That made the situation look even worse, like he'd been going through his things. Of course, he _had_ , but his intentions were not malicious.

"What are you _doing_ in here?" Tropy drummed his fingers on the back of the chair. When no response was given he leaned in closer, "Find anything of interest while you were _snooping_?"

"U-uh, no. Of course not. I- I mean I wasn't _snooping_. You see..." N Gin sputtered out, trailing off to giggle nervously but without mirth. Nefarious did not move, his face stoic and unchanged, "I wanted to talk to you and you weren't here so I... decided to wait for you."

Silence. Drawn out, terrible silence with a cold gaze to match. He swallowed hard as Nefarious began to drum his fingers against the back of the chair, a clear sign of his boredom and impatience, "I wasn't paying attention and bumped into the desk, when I stumbled I made a mess, but uh... I guess I got a little distracted, hehe..."

The mechanically motions of the fingers above his head were so disturbing and deeply upsetting. It was so demanding and commanded him to hurriedly formulate some sort of excuse to explain away the misunderstanding. It made him feel rushed and pressured, neither of which he handled well. The impatient tapping was almost worse than barren silence, and it made it hard to concentrate.

"I, uh... wanted to _apologise_. For what I said to you, about Doctor Cortex..." He wasn't sorry at all, not for what he'd said at least. His words felt justified and correct, but he had learned various times in his life that humility could earn favour, especially when presented to such a proud person as the doctor before him. More silence, only broken by the plodding of his fingers against the metal frame of the chair, "It... wasn't the appropriate time, or really my place. I'm sorry."

He stopped his drumming and his features relaxed, but his expression was unreadable to N Gin. He offered no words but merely looked down when the smaller man offered him the thermos, "So... I _made_ you some tea. I haven't seen you around the galley since you got back and I thought you might... appreciate it?"

He took it tentatively, his fingers grazing over N Gin's during the exchange. They were frigid, but it made his chest tighten. There was genuine surprise on his face as he looked down at the container. With his hands free again N Gin rested his fingers together as he looked up at the man hopefully, "It... well it might be cold by now, but I think I made it how you like it..."

Nefarious met his gaze briefly and N Gin gave another nervous chuckle. There was a lull that followed and N Gin swung his legs nervously as they dangled from the large chair. He stilled them and went rigid as he kicked the man in the shin. It had been gentle, more of a graze, but it still happened. He held his breath waiting for the reaction to follow but there was none. Tropy was absorbed in his own thoughts entirely as he looked down at the thermos. After a moment he switched his attention to N Gin.

"Ah. I understand..." His tone was soft. It was so unexpectedly kind and unnerving for this reason. A faint line of a smirk played on Tropy's features, and it made him hopeful that he had succeeded in appeasing the doctor.

"You _want_ something." Nefarious said knowingly. The bluntness of it, and the truth of the statement, startled him. Suddenly he was caught, flustered, and could not find the words to refute the statement. It was not accusatory or angry- if anything, there was a slight inflection of amusement. His face must have betrayed him in his silence, as Tropy gave him a withering look in response. N Gin furrowed his brow in worry. The scenario he'd planned in his head was very different from what was actually happening. He felt almost blindsided, and antsy, as a result.

"No, that isn't it at all I was just... worried, about you." He blurted awkwardly. Was that what he'd meant to say? Tropy's surprised expression matched his own. Maybe there was some truth to that. He realized the man had been holed up in this little area for over a week. He never went to the base, or even to the time reactor as far as he was aware. He missed conferences and would not respond to any sort of contact from anyone, apparently save for N Gin. Was he even eating? He probably should have brought him a snack, but he had no idea what Nefarious even liked. As his reflections turned over in his head, a wavering thought interrupted- why did he suddenly care?

"You're a poor _liar_." His tone was hushed and his face devoid of any of the amusement it held a moment ago. 

He was, he knew that, but now there was something else on his mind. He regarded the taller man with a perplexed glare as he thought aloud, "You know, you just stay here all the time. I never see you anywhere anymore... You missed the last meeting, too. Doctor Cortex was so angry..."

He finally noticed how exhausted he looked as he stared down at N Gin. He'd been withdrawn since he arrived, but now it had turned into complete isolation. He noticed that now, for once, Nefarious was the one who had averted his gaze. The look on his face and the entire situation felt strange, and it bothered him, "Are... you okay?"

The quiet between them was excruciating. N Gin was thankful for the soothing drone of the nearby columns, otherwise it would have been insufferable. He wasn't sure if he had angered Tropy again, or perhaps even embarrassed him. His anxiety abated some as the doctor gently nudged him out of the chair and took his place, setting the thermos on the console beside him.

" _All_ of you underestimate what it takes to keep this structure operating. You take it for _granted_ and never give any consideration to the sheer amount of time and _energy_ that goes into it..." Tropy retorted, brushing off his question as he began to unscrew the thermos lid, " _Forgive me_ for missing Cortex making a spectacle of himself for an hour while everyone pretends to be interested..."

"Actually... no, that is a tragedy, you're right." He muttered quietly and went to sip from the provided cup. A sputtering chirp left N Gin as he suddenly remembered he had sneezed in it earlier. Tropy caught this and paused in his motions, "What?"

"N-nothing." He shrugged and struggled to come up with an appropriate excuse. His guilty conscience goaded him to glance at the cup in anxiety and Nefarious did the same then looked back at him with a questioning glower.The truth certainly wasn't an option, "Really, it's nothing, just uh... hiccups."

God, _hiccups_? What was _wrong_ with him? He couldn't lie on the spot to save his soul. Nefarious was skeptical, and rightly so. He gradually lowered the cup and eyed the smaller man expectantly. N Gin hesitated and repeated the noise awkwardly to try and reassure him and let out a weak chuckle when Nefarious rolled his eyes at him. He glowered a moment longer before shaking his head in exasperation and sighing.

"Whatever." He whispered to himself and drank after inspecting everything once again. N Gin's stomach tightened. There was an odd thrill in deceiving him, even over something so small, so petty. He wondered how angry he would be if he actually knew, but he would never risk finding out. However, Tropy seemed complacent with what he didn't know. There were no complaints, no exaggerated grimace as he burned his tongue, no dramatic retching because it was too sweet.

He appeared to almost savour its warmth as he held it in its hand. N Gin was not entirely convinced of his answer prior, but it wasn't his place to dig. As it was, he shouldn't be concerning himself with Nefarious' affairs, not like that, at least. He wasn't the type to really bother himself with others' feelings, and though something about this situation picked at him to do otherwise, he ignored it and let the subject rest. There were more important things facing him than if Nefarious was depressed or not.

"What _is_ this?" He swirled the dark liquid around in the cup and looked down at it curiously. His expression was hard to read. It was so difficult to tell when he was concentrating on something, and when he was genuinely disgusted. Both expressions were practically the same.

"Uh, its just _tea_..." He began, paranoia niggling at the back of his mind, "Why, is-is it bad?" 

"You know... not every question is a personal attack." Tropy glanced at him then back to the cup, "I just want to know what it is."

"Hehe, well... I didn't really have enough of anything on its own so I mixed a bunch of them together... It's the honeybush, _roo_ ibos and uh... pu... _pur_..."

" _Pu-erh_." Nefarious finished the sentence for him.

"Yes. _That_." He chuckled some. He'd had gathered these were his favourites, and he hoped that mixing them together would create something enjoyable. He wasn't much of a tea drinker himself, so he had no opinion on the matter. More silence, more anxiety. A wavering wheeze escaped him as he sighed in uncertainty.

"It's very... _different_." Tropy said as he opened the drawer to the console and withdrew a small cube, "But it's good. I like it." 

A smile pulled at his lips. He _liked_ it. Despite having sneezed in it and having little idea what he was doing, he had created something enjoyable. Nefarious was finicky so the fact he earned his approval and threw together something palatable excited him. It was pathetic, but it gave him a sense of importance. N Gin lingered beside him, shuffling slightly closer to get a better look at what he was doing. He was trying to work up the nerve to ask him about the multi tool, but upon noticing how absorbed he was, and how complacent he seemed slowly sipping his tea, he decided to wait.

He observed the taller man as he worked, watching him delicately pour cup after cup and work on the little bobble he'd taken from the drawer. N Gin regarded it curiously. It looked familiar, but his attention was drawn to his hands, steady and meticulous, as he worked.

It was strangely soothing watching his harmonious motions. Everything came to him with such amazing ease, and it brought back that twinge of jealousy. He stood by and watched until the tea had ran out. Another blossom of warmth. He really did like it, enough to drain the entire thermos. But had he really been standing here so long? Much to his surprise, Nefarious had allowed his presence and appeared either content, or at least tolerable, towards him lingering nearby. 

"What you said earlier, about Cortex..." Nefarious began but did not look at him. He was absorbed in his work, "I understand."

His lie was momentarily forgotten to him as he mulled over what he said. It was a surprise to hear, not a bad one really, but it _was_ surprising. Nefarious had seemed so upset and had such a grand sense of self, he assumed anything regarded slightly at criticism would go unheard. Perhaps he and Cortex were more different than he first assumed. 

"You are his right hand, yes? It reflects badly on one's superior to speak ill of them. In all fairness, you did as you were supposed to. And in many circumstances, you would have been right." He sighed and turned around in his chair to face him, "But, _you must_ see my _frustration_ when you _chastise_ me about matters that you have have neither involvement, nor understanding. My relationship with Cortex, is _very_ different from yours."

That was true, it was. There was a strange, unspoken intimacy between N Gin and Cortex. They knew each other very well, and, on good days, flowed together in their work. He knew how to appease his superior, who in turn knew how to push his buttons. They knew what the other liked, and what the other hated. There was an understanding between them and he lacked that with anyone else. Nefarious did not have that kind of relationship with Cortex, and had displayed no interest in developing such a thing.

"I have to ask... what is it you admire about Cortex so much?" He asked, genuinely curious. N Gin regarded him thoughtfully. The man had always had some magnetic pull about him that drew him in. He wanted to be friends with him so badly when they were children, and after their reunion as adults he found he consistently gravitated towards him. Despite the abuse, the ridicule, the lack of appreciation... he tolerated it, and he still orbited around the man. But he couldn't put a pin in the reason why. He felt anxious, and realized he'd never thought about it before. He had never really questioned his loyalty towards Cortex, or why it was there in the first place. Why was this such a frightening realization? 

He genuinely couldn't answer, and when this became apparent, Tropy gave him a look that bordered on pity. With this, he felt so uncomfortable in his thoughts and he wished to leave the situation, to isolate himself with his vessel. That is what he should be doing, anyway. But something compelled him to stay here. It wasn't the knowledge that he was trying to cozy up to Nefarious to get his tool back, or that Cortex was pushing him towards the other man in hopes of prodding information out of him. It was something else, and he couldn't place it. It was frustrating but it filled him with a nervous energy. 

"I guess... I mean, what isn't there to admire?" He tried to offered some kind of answer to placate the man. 

"Like I said. We have _very_ different relationships..." Nefarious chortled some, and after a pause added, "You know he can't hear you in here, right?"

Was he really so easily read? He felt exposed and a bit creeped out. There were times it felt like Nefarious was studying him like some curious little bug under a magnifying glass. Right now felt like one of those instances and again he found himself wishing to disappear. N Gin cleared his throat nervously and muttered a small agreement. He wanted a change in subject, anything to dissipate that perturbed feeling coiling up inside.

" _So_... what was it you came here for?" Tropy sighed after a time. This was not exactly the change he was wanting. N Gin slowly twiddled his thumbs he watched Nefarious scowl and lift the panel off the small cube to adjust the components inside. He had done this multiple times so far. Whatever the problem was, he was struggling to solve it. It commanded his attention entirely and he now remembered where he had seen this before. It was one of the rough sketches in the stack of papers scattered on the floor. 

Nefarious nudged him sharply to gather his attention again and stared down his nose at him. He repeated more carefully, cooly, " _Why_ did you come _here_?"

"To... _apologise_ and-"

" _Wrong_. Try again." He droned out. Tropy narrowed his eyes at him, watching him thoughtfully as a cat would a mouse. N gin was taken off guard by how suddenly the situation had turned against him, and his mind was rapidly trying to come up with some excuse. Nefarious filled the silence for him.

"You didn't come here to _apologise_ you came here because you _want_ something. How simple do you think I am?"

His face twitched with a grimace. He thought things were going so well but he was wrong, so terribly wrong. Nefarious knew he was lying. The sudden accusation flustered him and made it hard to think, "I-I'm sorry, I just thought-"

"You're insufferable... just tell me what you want and stop pissing around." Nefarious sneered. He didn't sound angry. He sounded annoyed, frustrated, but not angry. His tone was even as he spoke and he regarded N Gin with silence as he stared at him, again drumming his fingers in impatience.

"I... left something here yesterday and I need it back." He admitted. He felt like a scolded child and wished he would have just asked earlier. It would certainly have been much better than this.

" _There_ it is." He said knowingly, nodding his head slightly, "And what _was it_?"

"Th-the um..." His mind fizzled out. What was it called? Suddenly all words left him as he felt antsy and dazed in his nervousness. Again, he was in an unfamiliar situation with an unfamiliar person. He had no idea what to expect and all it did was add to his unease.

"Go on, spit it out. You're _wasting my time_. You've already wasted so much of your own with this little... _attempt_ , and that's fine. But I won't have you wasting anymore of _mine_." Tropy leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs casually. He watched N Gin, his gaze condescending, and curious.

He was so flustered and nervous, he felt rushed and the tangible impatience from Nefarious was making things so much worse. His thoughts were rapid, numerous, but lacked substance and coherent information. That inner turmoil rose up in him, the small, whispering swirls that he could do nothing _right_. He was awkward and so painfully easy to read. His doubt fogged his mind, and his apprehension stilled his tongue. There was another sense of deja vu. This situation had turned up so many times in his life- it was so _familiar_.

"The thing. You know that... you _know_ what I'm talking about!" He sputtered out in his frustration, furrowing his brow as he tried to find the words. Tropy knew what he was getting at, he had to. A pain shot through his head, his distress having set off the missile's activity again. It _hurt_ and made words so distant. He expected anger, but instead he was met with something of a nasally laugh. All it did was frustrate him more.

Nefarious raised his brows, a smirk gracing his features, his tone condescending, " _Now, now_... let's use our _big boy_ words..."

He glared, his jaw set firm as Nefarious regarded him with that smug grin of his. He didn't understand how the doctor had such abilities to get him so flustered, and so quickly. The obvious amusement was almost worse than the expected anger. All this did was make him feel like he was being teased. He sputtered about ungracefully as he corrected himself, "The... the _multi tool_. I used it to _fix your arm_ yesterday, and now I can't find it."

" _Now_ why was that so difficult?" He gave him a sympathetic look. It was rehearsed, theatrical. He continued, his tone patronizing, "Oh but... are you _sure_ you lost it _here_?"

N Gin creased his brow more in annoyance and this only seemed to fuel the strange amusement Nefarious seemingly got from this situation. The goading was so _deliberate_. Tropy was screwing with him. He was _reveling_ in the fact he was so easily frustrating him. The taller man outstretched his arm to address the hub around him, "Perhaps you would like to _snoop around_ some more? Be my guest."

Another odd, nasally chortle left him as he regarded N Gin with an almost devious delight. Tropy started slightly as a small wisp of steam hissed from his missile and formed tangible embarrassment. His eyes widened some and he looked almost _giddy_ at this display, if such a word could ever apply to him.

"Oh... so _hot headed_..." He said lowly, his tone hushed as though he were trying to restrain his amusement. 

N Gin huffed. He wasn't going to dignify the remark, but had to catch himself before he snickered. He wouldn't look around, or 'snoop' as it was being called, especially not when Nefarious was under the impression he already had. That would just be insulting. N Gin stood by awkwardly, flitting his eyes around the room as he scanned the area for anything that stuck out. But there was nothing out of place, nothing foreign or new. He knew he had lost it here and Nefarious was just being an ass about it because he was pouting about yesterday. Still, he was in no position to challenge him, and he felt like the man would just keep teasing him if he tried to explain himself further. It wasn't as though he could go through Tropy's pockets- that was the only place it could be, he reasoned, since it was no where to be found otherwise. A dejected wheeze left him.

Tropy was right. This had been a waste of time. He had nearly half the day wrapped up in this, half of a day _wasted_ when he could have made such progress with his modifications. He didn't know what he was thinking, or what had goaded him to seek out the man's company. It had been something deeper than the multi tool, or Cortex wanting information. He wasn't sure what it was, but whatever it was all it had done is cause him further embarrassment and to be set back in his schedule.

"N Gin."

His chest constricted again, painfully this time. He was amazed that Nefarious actually knew his name, and had remembered. He'd certainly never used it before. Often Tropy regarded him simply as 'you there'. He was quiet while he watched N Gin, his eyes following the little cyborg's nervous swaying. When he spoke his tone was still smooth, and kinder than earlier, "I _do_ appreciate the tea."

He nodded slightly, rubbing his hands together slowly. That made him feel better, lighter, but it really shouldn't. It was such a small and simple thing, after all.

"I just don't like bribes, or offerings." Nefarious began turning the small cube over in his hand. N Gin stared at it greedily, his curiosity goading him to find out what it was. Should he even ask? He wasn't sure if Tropy was even angry at him or not. He watched the man toy with it for a while before realizing Nefarious was not paying any mind to the cube, but rather using it to distract him to watch him pensively. The special attention made him feel simultaneously delighted, and disturbed. His tone was cool, hushed, "Don't try to buy my respect again."

That resonated with him, because that is basically all he had ever done. He couldn't remember how to connect to people in any other way. Nefarious tossed the little bobble to him suddenly. He fumbled with it in his hands before getting a grip on it. The taller man leaned back comfortably in his chair again, folding his hands against his stomach, "See what you can do with that, hm? Play with it. Consider it a _gift_."

He stood there a moment as he looked at the small device. It was so cold and heavy, but clearly a clock, although a strange one. The face was blank and the only adornment was the simple, unmoving hands. He toyed with it a little and tried to push them around but they remained stationary and resisted his movement. How considerate, how _thoughtful_ , of Tropy to give him what was, essentially, his garbage. N Gin scoffed at it. What would he ever do without the man's generosity?

Still, he accepted it and only tore his gaze away from it when he heard Tropy clear his throat to garner his attention. The man waved him off, silently shooing him. He was being kicked out again, but it felt different than last time. He accepted that he wasn't going to get his tool back, not right now, and possibly never. Tropy was going to continue to be petty and childish and hang onto it just to irritate him.

N Gin gave a small, incredulous laugh as he took his leave. He gave a glance behind him this time and could see Nefarious watching him still, comfortably leaned back in his chair. The man gave him a small wave of acknowledgement and it made N Gin smirk some as he entered the transporter. He was such a smartass. Delightful warmth and light surrounded him, then was rapidly replaced with cold air and eerie groans from submerged machinery. He glanced up. The moon was still in its same position as it always was, gently pulling the tide ever forward.

Overall the encounter had been fruitless. He'd gained nothing, save for a broken clock to tinker with. He paused and turned it over in his hands experimentally. It was from that same foreign material that matched Tropy's arm, and small pulses of warmth resonated within and vented through the cracks. How peculiar, he thought. It was so cold earlier to now hold warmth, even if it was faint. Though it was presumably broken, there was something inside of it he assumed to be dormant. He wondered if this might be of interest to Cortex. It was certainly a starting point, at least. 

He shook his head as he mumbled to himself aloud. He would hold onto it for now. If anything it was of interest to himself and may offer him saving grace if he failed. _No_. N Gin shook his head again, more fervently as he excitedly fidgeted with the small cube in his hands. He wouldn't fail, he was so certain of it. His chest tightened and his stomach knotted as he fought against these impending feelings of dread. His hands trembled with radiant, nervous energy building in his core. At least, this way, he possibly had a recourse in the _slight_ chance something did not go as he'd planned. N Gin would have to admit that to himself, and try and take some small solace in that knowledge. Perhaps, the visit had not been a complete waste. One person's trash was another's treasure, or so he'd heard.


	3. Parasitism

_A radiant energy bubbled in his core and had entirely consumed him. He trembled constantly, jittery and fitful in his excitement. The anticipation, the constant anxiety, and the sleep deprivation together had triggered glorious mania- and it could not have been better timed. The nights were sleepless and his thoughts flowed so smoothly, like water. For once, everything came with such great ease. He felt renewed and ignited, inspired, limitless. Multiple times already he'd bragged to Cortex and the others how simple this was going to be. He was so_ cocky _, and the more he toiled, the more he built up his mech, the more reassured he felt._

_He kept adding modifications and weapons. The tracking systems were constantly improving, the experimental hybrid artillery was astounding, and he had reinforced all his weak points. This was one of his greatest designs and he was so proud of it. It was simply massive and something bred for war.There had been few things in his life that could compare to the love he felt for this vessel. As he looked at it, a small stab of regret still lingered, but even that had fallen distant. He would not let it sully the present._

_His hands were stained, fingertips and palms pitch black from soot and gunpowder. Underneath the skin was raw and sensitive, scabbed over from chemical burns and searing metal. There were some things one did bare handed, and he loved the sensual feeling of raw explosives against his fingers. It was euphoric._

_Excited murmurs and tics of giggling poured from his lips. He was always whispering to himself how he could make further improvements, and what kind of glory awaited him after he succeeded. They carried down the corridors and echoed back to him soothingly. A multitude of voices lavished him with such praise and admiration, constantly tending to him and deafening the fears that loomed behind him. He carried himself so well now. There was no slouching, no fidgeting, no airy wheezing squeaks of nervous or tics of panicked, anxious laughter._

_Cortex had even gone so far as to pull him aside and assure him of his renewed faith, how this would make up for last time and bury that humiliating escapade. These words and the reassuring touch on his shoulder, the genuine kindness paid to him, the_ apology _given for doubting him... It was everything he ever wanted from the man-_ recognition _. He was in some other mind entirely now. His thoughts were rapid and inspired, and he was so restless. When was the last time he'd slept? Days, at least. There was no need for rest, no need for food. He was sustained on sublimation alone._

_The last time such a feeling gripped him so strongly was before the accident. He had made such a breakthrough. It was genius and would secure his place in history, and earn him such grand revenue. He was lined up for a promotion and once he perfected his prototype he would be set for life. He didn't care so much about the money, he wanted the esteem. He craved that admiration, and it would be his. But then the budget cuts, the lack of funding, cutting corners out of desperation... No, he wouldn't think about that, no. He defiantly pushed it away time and time again, hushed praise soothing the ache of his past failures. It had to be kept away.It would tarnish this feeling, this joy, this brimming confidence he so desperately clung to._

_It was almost sad how easy this was going to be. But he couldn't feel too bad. He was owed this. He'd served his time and he had_ earned _this. Last time was a mistake, an anomaly. It was a black mark on his record and such a blow to his pride, but this would remove it. This time would be better, it would be different. He would make it_ right. 

_As he hoisted himself into his mech he felt such a credence of his assured victory. He wanted to impress Cortex, he was starving for his recognition and affirmation as his right hand, but there was more. He needed this for himself. He needed the reassurance he was not completely hopeless, that he was not broken, that his life was not going to stagnate as it had to this point. He needed to know from some source, any source, that his life had not ended that day and that there was still_ something _capable buried within him._

_N Gin knew this would not be a repeat of last time. He had swayed Cortex to have faith in him again, and what a feat it had been. It had taken nearly a year, but he had done it. If he could just follow through, that would be all he needed._

_"So. Hehe, you want to go a few rounds? When this is over, we will see who is obsolete."_

_Excited giggles filled the cell of his ship. They clung to the metal walls and encompassed him entirely. No, he was certain of it, this would not be a repeat of last time..._

Oh but it _had_ been.

"You have _failed_ me. _Again!_ I-I-I don't _understand_. You assured me you would come out victorious." Cortex paced rapidly, his hands knitted in his hair before holding them out in exasperation, " _HOW did this HAPPEN?!_ "

There was no response he could give, no justifiable excuse that came to mind. He was still in shock, having literally just been pulled from the burning cockpit and into the station. His ears were ringing and he could not control his shaking as he leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. If Cortex hadn't collected him he would have died, but that seemed almost preferable compared to what greeted him now. His face was swollen and bruises were forming from being tossed around violently in his exploding ship. Had he not been cautious and reinforced the cockpit, there would be nothing of him to sit here and take the berating. That, too, may have been preferred.

"You know, it's funny... I'm actually _impressed_ , N Gin." Cortex twiddled the end of his beard. He'd stopped pacing. He was rigid, his eyes wide in his perplexed state, "I don't think I've ever been more disappointed in somebody that I am with you right now. So at least you've succeeded in _one_ area today."

He closed his eyes tightly as he raked his hand down his face. He was such a disappointment, but this was nothing new, he always had been. There was nothing left in him. In all intents and purposes he truly had died that day and just hadn't realized it until now. Right now there was such a moment of clarity. There was no fog, no jumbled thoughts, no manic delusions. He was being forced to face the reality of his situation and take inventory of himself. There was nothing capable buried in him any longer. There was nothing _there_.

"I never should have listened to you..." He sighed with contempt, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "I was _stupid_ to think things would be any different this time."

N Gin swallowed audibly and glared at the floor. He couldn't bring himself to meet his superior's gaze, and such an action would be taken as defiance at a time like this as it was. Right now he felt nothing, just a cold hollow pit crumbling away within him. He'd been carved out entirely and it left him stoic and paralyzed with apathy. How had this happened? 

He'd been taken off guard, he'd hesitated, and his piloting skills had deteriorated more than he realized. He rested his hands in his lap, lacing his fingers together tightly, knuckles white under his gloves. He could not tell these things to Doctor Cortex. There could be no admittance of his fault in the matter. N Gin would have to blame it on a technical error, anything else than admit he couldn't do it and that he had sorely underestimated what he would be facing. 

N Gin leaned forward and clutched his head. Exhaust sputtered out of his missile port and scattered little bits of soot into the air. Like the rest of him, it was filthy and coated in remnants of the explosion. He winced some and rubbed his forehead soothingly. The jolting pain and throbbing pressure were relentless. He'd taken a heavy blow to the head while he was being tossed about and was starting to feel the effects of it now. The heat, the pressure behind his eyes and in his sinuses made him feel like his face was going to explode. A sharp prickling sensation snaked through his nose, followed by a whining, nasally snort. He held his hands to his nose to still the bleeding. Low murmurs left him as he let it plod into his cupped hands and looked up at his superior meekly.

Cortex sighed at him with disgust and tossed him a cleaning rag. N Gin bobbed his head some in gratitude and held it to his face. It was a concern but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. Cortex wasn't interested in why his nose was bleeding, he just wanted answers on his failure. He wracked his brain to formulate some kind of excuse that did not sound entirely pathetic, but could think of nothing. It was as though his mind were entirely blank. Thoughts were hanging close in the back of his mind, yes, but he couldn't access them. 

Cortex was going to goad something out of him, "What _happened_ out there?"

He wheezed some in his nervousness, "I-I don't know." 

"What do you mean _you don't know_?" Cortex looked at him, befuddled, exasperated, "You were out there _in_ it!"

"S-she shot out my engines, the thrusters, I couldn't... " He snorted some at the pain in his nose "She stranded me, I couldn't move..."

"You're so _stupid_. Did you not _think_ to make a backup system? You constantly brag about thinking ahead but you couldn't do _THAT_? Surely, _surely_ even _you_ can see my frustration!"

He couldn't say anything. No, he hadn't thought of it. He was focused on the fire power and the hull, the body. All of his time had gone into perfecting the artillery. The first phase of the vessel had poor mobility due to its massive size, but the second phase... That was his mistake for not having a backup propulsion system. He didn't think it would be an issue, so instead he just focused on the firepower and his defenses. 

"I just... I-I don't _understand_... how did you overlook something so _simple_?" He glared at him in genuine confusion. Cortex was struggling to wrap his head around it just as much as he was.

"She was using some kind of jammer it... It messed up my systems and my navigator." N Gin skirted around the question. He hated being interrogated. He was still in shock over what had happened. No, he was deluding himself. The answers were so clear, they were just too humiliating to face. In addition to his own shortcomings, so much time had been _wasted_ piddling with that stupid little clock and seeking out Nefarious that he'd given up an entire day's worth of progress. He gulped as he thought of it and clutched the rag tighter in his hand. Doctor Cortex couldn't know this either. Slacking off was worse than incompetence. His guilty conscience again betrayed him and forced him to cast a worried glance up towards his superior. 

There was such a myriad of emotions- skepticism, hurt, anger, and such deep disappointment. Cortex regarded him in silence for a while, staring at him and pacing back and forth while he muttered to himself. The distress radiating off him was nearly tangible. His hushed murmurs were frantic and filled up the otherwise silent hub with an eerie, whispering swirl of sound. N Gin followed him with his eyes, watching carefully as he made the constant trip back and forth. He was thankful for the rag covering most of his face. Cortex couldn't see his quivering lip, the anxious grimace twisting his face as the hollow pit in him slowly began to pool with dread.

His superior stopped suddenly and sighed heavily in his dejection. Frustration and desperation were so clear in his tone, "N Gin, you have to understand, I don't _know_ if I can look past this." 

That alarmed him. The slow pooling of anxiety rapidly turned over into a flood as panic gripped his chest. It made him feel cold and dumbfounded, as though he'd just witnessed something horrific. He cleared his throat to find his voice, a shrill stuttering beep leaving him instead. The sound startled the both of them and he returned his gaze to the ground in embarrassment at the disconcerting noise he made. The blow to his head must have damaged his speech center, and therefore his module.

"I was _patient_ last time. I was _understanding_. You were still recovering, you weren't up to speed yet. I overlooked your failure because I felt _sorry_ for you. But this. _This_." He chuckled incredulously and shook his head, "I-I don't even know where to begin..."

Like dozens of needles, the words stung and embedded themselves in him. _Because he felt sorry for him_. Not because they were colleagues, or friends, or even because Cortex recognized his worth, his devotion. It was because he'd felt _sorry_ for him. He felt pitied, and he _resented_ that. N Gin caught himself glowering and quickly averted his gaze. He held his tongue and gripped the rag tighter to his face as he glared at the floor. Scathing words and pitiful whining would do nothing for his favour right now.

He wished to disappear, to withdraw into himself entirely like a clam and vanish from this world. As a child he could withdraw into his blankets or a closet and accomplish just that, but no such thing existed right now. He was exposed entirely and trapped in an endless cycle of inescapable situations. N Gin kept his words low as he spoke so as to not strain his module to the point of glitching, "I-its not my fault my systems went offline, master Cortex..."

"Oh-ho, it is _exactly_ your fault. This isn't _new_ to you, you've been doing the exact same thing for years. It's basic engineering to have a fail-safe." Cortex was right. They both knew it. His fail-safe had been the second phase of his ship, but it had not gone as planned. The overwhelming amount of artillery on it should have been _enough_ but it _wasn't_. N Gin could offer nothing in response other than a nod of his head as he absorbed the man's words. He lowered the rag from his face and began to fidget with it, scowling at the blood that now slicked his gloves. 

"I think the accident left you more... _disabled_ , than either of us realized. It's clear I've overestimated your capabilities..." He sighed and looked at him thoughtfully with a grimace, "I-I really don't think this is for you."

"W-what are you saying?" He whispered nervously, a bead of sweat running down his forehead and hissing quietly as it made contact with the hot metal of his face plate. He knew what was coming but he didn't want to hear it.

Cortex paused, humming lowly as he thought audibly, "Let me try and put this in a way you can understand. I'm through cleaning up your messes. I'm tired of depending on you and everything suddenly falling to me. You're a liability. I'm _done_ with you. _You're fired_."

A wavering, shrill whine tore from him with those words. He couldn't stop it, and he couldn't control himself suddenly. He felt so needy and desperate to placate him and win his favour again. He no longer knew how to exist anywhere than at the man's side. The tightening in his chest grew more and stole the breath from him. He felt as though he were going to break in half.

"Oh. No, no, no." He said frantically. His composure rapidly deteriorated, "P-please, master Cortex, I-I... _I_ can do better next time, I can _help_ you-"

" _Help_ me? Have you heard anything I've been saying to you? What good is your 'help' to me? Both times I've needed you to step up, _both_ times I have completely put my faith in you, you have _failed_ me." He chortled some, "That's not exactly something to _brag_ about, N Gin..."

The high whining was incessant and constant, he couldn't stop it as the tempestuous feelings filling him up inside suddenly erupted. He was to his feet, unsteady, "N-no, please, I can- I can do better. I..."

He paused and wrung his hands together nervously. Surely there was something he could say. He thought aloud, "Hehe... Have-have you considered that _maybe_ , this isn't... S-such a bad thing?"

Cortex raised a brow, intrigued, and silently goaded him to continue. 

"Hhn, just... J-just think about it, _alllll_ of the crystals are in one convenient place... You'll be able to harness their energy once you're victorious, a-and how _satisfying_ would it feel for them to know they essentially... e-essentially _gathered_ them for you. Yes. Imagine how _devastating_ that would be..." He gave a nervous smile, his hand wringing so intense he could hear his joints popping under the pressure. 

Cortex was mulling over his words, pensively staring off as he ran his fingers through his goatee, "Hmm, you have a point..." 

N Gin nodded eagerly and added anxiously, pleading, " _Please_ , master Cortex, let me help you. I-I'll do anything. What-what can I do to help?" 

"Hmm... Well, there _is_ something you could do for me, N Gin." He said thoughtfully. What would it be? He would do anything, and he meant it. He stared at him hopefully, hands stilled as they clutched one another tightly. 

He regarded him with a kind expression, his tone light, "You can get out of my face."

Another warbling chirp of uncertainty left him as he stood there dumbly. There was such a desperate feeling building in him. Cortex wasn't going to cave. Why would he? In truth, N Gin had nothing to offer other than his loyalty, his devotion, but that mattered little in a world like theirs. People were expendable, and he was no different. There was no dignity as he quietly pleaded, the wavering of his strained module making him sound more mournful than intended, " _Please_ -"

"Oh, stop it." Cortex sighed and turned away from him to stare out the observation window, " _Leave_. I can't stand to look at you right now. I'll deal with you later. Right now I have more _important_ matters to attend to."

He lingered, glancing around the room in a panic as he tried to find the words to convince Cortex that he was worth keeping, but none came to him. All his presence would do is aggravate the man more, so he did as instructed, and like a scolded dog with its tail between its legs, he left.

There was no where left to go but his room. When he closed the door behind him something within him broke. He clenched his fists, grinding his teeth as he looked around him, disoriented and dazed. Those two simple words kept waffling back and forth in his head. _You're fired_. Cortex was going to abandon him. Where would he go? What would he do? He had nothing anymore. No industry would have him- he was a _liability_ , and an occupational hazard. He had no assets, he hadn't spoken to his parents in nearly a decade, he had no friends, no finances... 

A nervous whining wheeze left him as he began pacing of his own, leaving crumbs of soot and ash with each frantic step. Was he stable enough to make it alone? God, no he wasn't, and he was never going to be. A warbling strangled sob burst out as he raked his hand through his hair then clutched it tightly. What had he _done_? Due to his ineptitude, his hesitation, his _wasted time_ , he was _ruined_. What little bit of residual confidence that had lingered in him through the years was suddenly severed and with it his self control.

He was something else entirely as he destroyed everything around him. His research, his furniture, his clothing, anything and everything he could get his hands on was strewn across the room to be broken and shattered. It reflected how he felt inside. His nose was bleeding again but he didn't care. Nothing mattered, _nothing mattered_. He was screaming, pained, shrill shrieks tearing from his throat as he continued his violent wave of total destruction. He knew Cortex and the others could hear him, but he was too wounded to have any sense of humility. This cycle continued for hours and when he finally stopped his room was thick with a haze of exhaust and left in ruins. Nothing had remained untouched.

He collapsed onto his cot, drawing into himself. His anger had left him and was replaced with a deep despair and a pounding headache. It left him with such a strong yearning, such a deep ache for _something_ but he didn't know what. It was painful and all consuming as he hugged himself for any semblance of comfort. The longer he lay here the more groggy he became and he drifted in and out through bits of rest.

His snippets of sleep were short, fitful, and marked by his cycles of screaming tantrums, crying spells, and staring at the ceiling while he dissociated from the situation entirely. It was so much worse than the could have imagined. There had been such great weight resting on his shoulders, and he had crumbled under the pressure. Everything had spun out of control and he had crashed and burned. _He had failed_. The gravity of it was just starting to sink into him and it was molten in his core. 

N Gin hadn't been out of his cramped quarters since Cortex banished him. In between periods of emotional breakdown, he'd nursed his own wounds and secluded himself here. Even if they had a medical wing, he wouldn't go. Like a coward, he was _hiding_. He didn't care so much about the minions, but Cortex... Even thinking of him right now made his face flush and his chest ache. His face burned with the compounded humiliation of not only failing, but having been so _cocky_ before. All it had done was draw him up farther and made the impending crash so much worse.

He swallowed audibly, pitiful groans wavering from his lips as he calmed down from his recent tantrum. Shards of glass were scattered all over- his floor, his bed, his clothes. He had no control over himself, which only encouraged him to further dig himself into seclusion. The mania prior had flipped over into complete and utter despair. He was practically mourning himself as he sat in his bed, mechanically rubbing the grime and soot off his fingers as he reflected on what had happened.

He had been so _certain_ , so _confident_. A sputtering, angry sob left him as he thought of it again, possibly for the hundredth time. It was an obsession and the only thought that rested in his mind now. The confrontation wasn't a surprise, he knew it was approaching, but it came sooner than he thought it would. He hadn't expected to battle it out with Crash's sister so close to their moon base, and it caused him to hesitate. Those precious moments he'd wasted in his uncertainty had cost him so dearly.

He muttered to himself bitterly. How _old_ was Coco? She was merely a child, how had she crafted something so complex? How were her piloting skills so extraordinary? He underestimated her. He ran his hands over his face, sighing shakily and withdrawing into himself. The knowledge that he, who had been one of the best defense leaders of his time, was defeated by a ten year old, _in his own field of expertise_... It _destroyed_ something inside of him. It was worse than fruit gumming up his exhaust system and causing a system malfunction. That was not entirely his fault, it didn't reflect on his skills or his talents.

But _this_. This was unexplainable. He was a world renowned physicist who had been bested by a _child_. As far as he knew, she had no training, no schooling, no experience. Yet it all came to her with such great ease. He had worked so _hard_ to get where he was, and this knowledge only compounded his anger. Why were his defeats always marked with such a searing burn of degradation? 

There was nothing left for him. Cortex was going to be rid of him, that was the only thing he could be certain of at this point. He would not get away from his past failure, and it would only be amplified by this one. It was dangerous, and stupid, but he hoped that Cortex would change his mind, that he would realize he was worth keeping around. He would do whatever the man wanted, even if it was something as lowly as janitorial duties, just so long as he could remain beside him. But so much doubt remained. Now that he had failed, it all rested on his superior's shoulders- again. His collective failures were Cortex's burden- _again_. As terrible as it was, he had no faith that Cortex would actually succeed and it drove him into a deeper, more volatile despair.

His reflections were interrupted as he jerked suddenly and quickly found his hands on his face to still the tingling surge coursing through his head. There was a breach in his face plate. The steam from his thermal vent was causing condensation to form behind the metal plate and it brought with it such agony. He didn't have the tools he needed to secure it, but he lacked the mental willpower to make repairs as it was. N Gin jolted sharply again as a water droplet landed just the right way on one of the damaged wires. It brought with it such a dizzying rush of euphoria and anguish and made him see stars. But it quickly faded and left him drained and limp. Steam mingling with exhaust continued to flow freely.

He was panting from how suddenly hot he was in this glorified broom closet, and the exhaust was making him nauseated. He needed the cool air of the station, but it made him anxious. He was afraid to leave, afraid of what faced him when he left the comfort of his dark little hovel. He wondered if anyone would even be up at this hour. The only way he'd managed to keep some semblance of time is through that stupid, ugly clock-thing that Nefarious had tossed at him. Looking at it made him angry. He needed to get some air, and he needed to get his tool back. The thought of facing Tropy like this made his stomach churn and amplified his nausea. Still, it gave him the encouragement he needed to drag himself out of bed.

Wheezing, garbled chirps and squeaks left him in between his dejected whines as he turned things over to try and find his uniform. He'd found the sweater and his slacks, his boots, but was missing his lab coat and gloves. Good luck finding anything in the depressed squalor of his room. The mess of it overwhelmed him and he gave up looking.

His slacks were wrinkled and his sweater was embedded with small shards of glass, as well as the clinging crumbs from trying to eat his feelings earlier. His hair was disheveled, splaying every which way and his eye was swollen from excessive crying. He would be reprimanded if he was caught wandering about out of proper attire, but right now he couldn't muster up the mental will to care. As he saw it, he was entirely fucked, and it gave him a wavering feeling of complete apathy, which made him feel invincible.

N Gin tried to compose himself as he wiped the remaining ash and soot off his face. His fingers were permanently stained around the tips from years of handling gun powders and grease, so he didn't even bother with them. He was trying to make himself as presentable as possible, if that were even obtainable. However he found it hard to concentrate. The soft ticking of the clock behind him was maddening. It was mocking him, reminding him of his defeat, reminding him of his wasted time, his humiliation, the teasing, his own inadequacy. It boldly professed to him that his life was over. Each gentle tick was a booming reminder of what he could have done _better_. 

He was screaming at it now, telling it to shut up as he picked it up and hurled it across the room. It bounced off the wall defiantly, leaving an impressive dent behind as it ricocheted back at him and clattered at his feet. All he could do is stare down at it, admire how sturdy it was, then pick it up in his defeat. It was so hot and oddly soothing as he turned it over in his hands, but he couldn't stand the sight of it right now. He shoved it in his pocket and cautiously stepped across his floor, broken glass and ruined trinkets crunching under his boots. N Gin peeked cautiously from the crack in his door before sliding it open. He felt so exposed in the light of the station.

Another sudden surge through his head made him grunt, the sound stuttering and catching on itself like a jammed disc drive. He was left seeing spots and a burnt metallic taste laid on his tongue. It made him feel briefly inebriated as he stood there swaying and rubbing his head.

The soft plodding of liquid against the tile made his brow crease and a tired sigh pass his lips. His nose was bleeding again. How many had he had by this point? The swelling hot metal and water vapor were irritating his sinuses furiously and he was having frequent nose bleeds as a result. He hadn't had to deal with them at such a volume since the early stages of his prototype. The deep burning, the _ache_ , the incessant tickling itch... He suddenly recalled now why the tea the other day had aroused such a pang of familiarity- the sensations were one in the same. N Gin grumbled bitter obscenities and pulled up the neck of his sweater to catch the blood as he slowly shuffled forward.

He paused and lingered in front of Cortex's quarters. The man was working on something in there, judging by the telling signs of harsh muttering and the light footsteps of his pacing. N Gin resisted the urge to intrude and tried to take this as an act of cosmic grace. He wobbled awkwardly as he tiptoed past, and felt a small rush of excitement when he successfully did. The smallest, more ridiculous things gave him such a thrill.

He pressed on the control pad and brought up the rift to the time reactor. Its design intrigued him. It was hot, buzzing and crackling with radiant energy as it reflected its destination. The surging drone that it emitted was always so enticing and comforting. It shuddered slightly and he took a step back, holding his breath and glancing around. Had he done something wrong? Was it unstable? N Gin lingered for a while, tapping his fingers together while he gazed at the miraculous orb curiously. There were no more shudders, so he passed it off as a visual glitch and stepped through it. 

The sensation was always so odd. It was both cold and hot, electrical, and made his skin tingle pleasantly. His feet thudded on the metal floor as he emerged from the other side of the orb. It disappeared behind him with a shrill blip, dormant to conserve energy until it needed to be used again. 

He struggled to find any serenity here like he had the other day. The moon was ever stationary in its proper place, the tide ebbing and flowing and gently lapping at the metal construct- but something was off. There was a hiccup in the machinery. It was low, and sporadic, but it was there. He felt the ground shudder under him as the reactor gave a low groan. Much like the soft ticking of the clock, he felt like the stuttering machinery was mocking him. It wasn't his concern, and he wouldn't let his curiosity distract him this time.

The transporter was stubborn and it took him a few tries to actually get it to cooperate. He chuckled mirthlessly, wondering where it would take him were it to malfunction with him inside of it. There was that apathy, that uncaring feeling. The emptiness was frightening but certainly better than the panic attacks and rage. 

He stepped into it, buzzing, radiant warmth and humming surges enveloping him that disappeared as quickly as they came. He couldn't believe he was here again, especially not looking like he was. He could hear it now, the expected jeers and the nasally drone from Nefarious remarking how horrid he looked, how pitiful he was, how he had failed. It bothered him and made him feel anxious again, but why did he care what Tropy thought of him?

As he walked along he realized the little hub was much darker than usual. Normally it was brightly lit, almost obnoxiously so, but today it was dim. He could see a faint glowing green in the abyss below now, something he either had not noticed before or was unable to see due to the lights overhead. In truth, it was placid and the dim light was soothing to his pounding head and sensitive eyes. He stopped short in the control room, resting his hands behind his back while he observed Nefarious.

He wasn't working, or watching the monitors. He didn't even know he was being watched. Tropy had his head propped up by his arm resting on the console, dozing. His head bobbed occasionally as he seemed to try and right himself but it didn't disturb his rest. The thermos sat beside, as did some cleaning cloths and scattered bits of machinery he'd likely been tinkering with. It seemed even Nefarious in all of his 'perfection' wasn't immune to napping on the job. As he watched him a thought slowly crept through his mind. He took a step forward, staring at the man intently for any signs he'd disturbed him. Tropy didn't budge and soft, deep breathing continued uninterrupted.

It was risky, but how delightful would it be to steal back what had been stolen from him? N Gin could imagine his face now, scowling and second guessing himself as he tried to find where he misplaced it- much like what the man had done to him by keeping it. It would be such a small, but satisfying, victory for him. He shuffled forward more. He was so close to Nefarious now that he could hear his hushed breathing and tired incoherent murmurs as he talked in his sleep.

He watched the paced rise and fall of his chest then looked back down towards his pockets. He snaked his hand inside one of them and felt around, but found nothing of significance. Small springs, discarded clock parts, some lint. _Nothing_. N Gin grumbled inwardly and stole another worried glance at Nefarious. No movement, no change.

Reassured, he moved on to the next one. He shook slightly as he slipped his hand into the next pocket. His nervous trembling subsided as he was met with something unexpected- a discarded candy wrapper. He went rigid as he crinkled it loudly and remained very still. N Gin was frozen in place, his hand deep in the man's pocket and clutching that obnoxious plastic wrapper with such intensity he could feel his hand shaking. He felt the man shift slightly. With held breath he darted his eyes upward and could practically feel himself shrinking under that sharp, unyielding gaze.

Nefarious suddenly gripped his arm, stilling his motions and guided his hand out of his pocket. He had awoken the sleeping beast. N Gin gulped some and stared up at him nervously, an airy chuckle leaving him as he began sweating. Nefarious was clearly not amused. The invincibility created by his apathy flooded out of him quickly. Tropy said nothing, merely observing him before releasing his arm and letting N Gin put a few steps distance between them.

"Going through my pockets now?" Tropy tutted, his voice a bit hoarse from just being roused out of his sleep. He sat up slowly and withdrew something from the chest pocket of his lab coat, waving it in front of him enticingly, "Is this what you're looking for?"

It was his multi-tool. Yes, _yes_ that was it! Such relief washed over him as he stared at it longingly. He reached for it enthusiastically but Nefarious pulled it away. He held it above his head, just out of his reach, bobbing it up and down slightly to keep it from N Gin's grasp. Nefarious crossed his legs casually and continued this little game, chuckling lowly as he watched the little cyborg _bounce_ as he tried to get ahold of it. N Gin was so _frustrated_ as he swatted at it, his fingers grazing the handle before Tropy pulled it just slightly out of reach. More exhaust snaked from his port with a sprinkling of soot. His face was red and screwed up with a grimace. He felt so desperate, so angry, as he let out a shrieking whine that warbled and squeaked in a glitch. He forgot his place entirely. 

"You- _you_ are such an _ass_! Y-o- _o-o-u-_ " He trailed off as the module stuck in a stammering, jammed drone. N Gin glared ahead. He was certain of it now, the damage to his head had done something to his system. He hadn't been able to run any tests, but he did know it had to be the speech center that controlled his module. He was fortunate it had not disconnected completely otherwise he would be unable to talk at all, save for moronic gibberish. Crackles and glitches were preferable to mutism, he supposed. Flustered at himself, he took his silence and rubbed his throat anxiously.

Nefarious' small smirk faded as he regarded him curiously, "Are you finished?"

He didn't wait for a response as he stood and drew himself to full height, reaching towards N Gin. He went rigid as the metal hand gripped the back of his sweater. An alarmed, distorted squeak left him as Tropy plucked him off the ground with ease and sat him in the chair he had been resting in just a moment prior. Nefarious released him, meticulously smoothing out the bunched fabric and picked off a few shards of glass as well.

"Don't move." He pointed at him and left to pull up a rolling chair to sit before him. With a sigh he took N Gin's face in his hands and turned his head slightly as he examined him closely, "My, you're practically _falling apart_..."

Nefarious flipped through the components of the tool until he found the one needed. He leaned forward some and examined his head again, pressing on the plate experimentally.

N Gin recoiled, alarmed, "What- w-what are you doing?"

"I'm just offering to 'help you out'." Tropy replied quietly and allowed N Gin the time to collect himself and process what was happening. It was odd hearing his own words mirrored to him, and again made him feel like he was being mocked. Did he trust him with something like this? There was really no other choice. He tried to remind himself it wasn't as though it was something he could easily mess up, it was on the same level of difficulty as attaching a hubcap. As it was, he lacked the steadiness needed to secure the plate to his head, and right now he would give just about anything to close the breach and stop the steam from frying his circuits. N Gin murmured some and nodded a little as he leaned forward back into Nefarious' touch.

His fingers were so cold and made his skin tingle as they gently grazed his jaw to turn his head to the side. With the convenient cloth beside him, he removed the residual vapor and held his hand out expectantly for the missing screws. N Gin hesitated then withdrew them from his pants pocket and sat them in Tropy's awaiting hand. This seemed so practiced, but he brushed it off.

"Why... Why are you doing this?" N Gin asked quietly as he shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He didn't know how to process this situation. Just a moment ago Nefarious was bullying him but now he was offering such a kind gesture. It left him confused and made his stomach knot and twist. He began to idly swing his legs to redirect that nervous energy somewhere.

"I suppose that one good turn deserves another." He said softly as he pressed against the metal plate and secured the screws and bolts. He knew each tool to use and where to find them in the jumbled mess. Had he been studying it?

"A-alright. But... why are you being nice to me?" His curiosity got the better of him.

Nefarious leaned back some, puzzled, "Have I been unkind to you?"

N Gin chuckled then stopped short when it became apparent that Tropy was very serious. Suddenly he'd created a very awkward situation for himself. Bringing up someone's faults and accusing them of being rude was better saved for a time when said person wasn't also reattaching your face. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, the sound a stuttering beep. 

"Y-you, uh... You keep... teasing me." He said sheepishly and swung his legs more frantically as that nervousness continued to build. He kicked him, _again_ , and felt his face flush. His complaint sounded so petty and childish when he spoke it aloud and made him feel like he was tattling. He waited for the smug look, the nasally laughter, but neither came.

"Ah." Tropy leaned forward again to finish securing the plate. He was quiet for a moment before adding, "I wasn't aware you were so _sensitive_..."

"No, I'm not!" N Gin said defensively and furrowed his brow as he recoiled from his touch. Tropy took it in stride and simply pulled his head forward again to finish the last row of bolts and screws. He wouldn't admit it right now, but his headache had already eased up some now that the breach was closed. The pressure in his sinuses had subsided entirely and the random surges had ceased as well.

"There's no need to be so _defensive_." Tropy cocked a brow and turned his head over in his hands to examine his work, "It's not an _insult_. It's alright to be sensitive..."

" _I am not sensitive!_ " N Gin hissed and pulled away from Nefarious. He knitted his fingers together, tightly clasping his hands as he slowly rubbed his thumb into his palm. He was visibly upset and _pouting_ over the accusation. His own reaction only fueled the frustration he felt inside and added to his embarrassment.

"If you say so." Tropy gave a skeptical look, as though his response confirmed his accusation. N Gin sputtered, trying to find the words, but they came out as awkward stutters and jammed, mechanized hiccups. The taller man took the opportunity for himself.

"I never really considered that it bothered you so deeply." Nefarious said as he pried N Gin's fingers apart and slid the tool into his hands. He closed them over it once more and held them briefly before pulling away, "In all fairness, you _did_ deserve it... But I suppose I did go a bit overboard at times..."

The soft tone of his voice and the sudden kindness only made him feel worse. It made him feel confused and wrong in his anger. He never expected someone like Tropy to actually appear bothered, let alone remorseful. Nefarious was practically grooming him now and imposing order on him as he plucked the bits of glass away and straightened his disheveled hair methodically, "You're just very... Uh..."

He scrunched his face up some while he visibly searched for the right word. What would it be? Bothersome? Annoying?

" _Cute_. When you're flustered..." Tropy nodded some, satisfied with himself. The sound that left N Gin in response to this was an mumbling stammer as he tried to find words of his own. The surprise of it alone was alarming and made everything else momentarily distant.

 _Cute_. Nefarious thought he was cute? No, he thought his _flustered stuttering_ and _nervous tics_ were cute. Still, it made his chest tighten and his stomach knot, it made his face flush and the warmth made it difficult to think. Nothing about him had ever really been called cute before. These feelings were so much stronger than his anger and caused it to ebb slightly. He was so fickle but he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit he enjoyed these feelings and the special attention being paid to him now. The warmth in his head displaced the anger entirely.

N Gin looked down at the little tool in his hands. He had missed it so much, it had become such a vital part of him ever since the accident. He felt oddly cozy, almost lazy, as Nefarious carefully picked glass out of his sweater. Though the room was dim, he could make out that the man was a little embarrassed, and he found that oddly endearing. Nefarious refused to meet his gaze while he 'worked' and it suddenly occurred to N Gin that though he was aloof, it appeared he was also a tad _shy_. A low chuckle left him and it earned the man's attention. 

He wanted to embarrass him, but he didn't. He felt more secure now that he has his tool back. It allowed him to not be so entirely helpless, "Why did you hold onto this?"

"Ah... I may have enjoyed watching you huff about. But, I found the design... intriguing, and useful. I wanted to study it for a while, and perhaps replicate it for myself." He admitted, grimacing some and balling his hand into a fist as he brushed over the crusted blood on N Gin's sweater. He wiped his hand on his lab coat and was careful to avoid that area when he resumed his preening. 

"Did you?"

"Hm?"

"Did you copy it?" N Gin found himself smirking, just a tad smug at the fact he had made something that Nefarious wanted, and that he had been too arrogant to ask.

"I _may_ have borrowed some of its features for my own tool set." He muttered. He'd copied it, he just wouldn't admit it, not in so many words.

"Hhn, i-if you wanted a look at it all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to be such an prick about it." He said casually, again forgetting his place, and that he was a subordinate to Nefarious. 

"Now, you see... I have it in my mind, that you continuously barged into my private quarters, looked through my belongings, and attempted to manipulate me with bribery and false kindness, just because you lacked the audacity to simply _ask me for it_. Perhaps, _you_ did not have to be such a 'prick' about it." He chuckled lightly and was clearly passive aggressive. It had flowed form him so easily and it was clear this had played on his mind for a while.

Steam hissed from his missile as he scrunched into himself some, embarrassed. He wanted to refute it, but he couldn't. He was right. N Gin averted his gaze. He had behaved inappropriately, and though he didn't appreciate it, he supposed Nefarious had reacted within reason. Worse things certainly could have transpired than mere teasing. No words came forth and instead he stared bashfully at the tool in his hands, pretending to be absorbed in it entirely.

Nefarious tilted his head, his tone cool while he looked down his nose at him condescendingly, "Right. As you can see, _asking_ is not always such a simple task."

A lull settled between them after that. The only sound between them was the plinking of glass against the metal floor and the rushing hums and drones of the hub they resided in. It made him anxious the longer it went on, and it goaded him to speak. N Gin admitted finally, slumping in the chair and rolling the tool between his fingers as he fidgeted with it. "Y-you know. After I started talking to you... I was kind of worried... I-It's... it's kind of weird that you never leave this place anymore... Everyone talks about you..." 

He didn't know how to finish the sentence. It sounded odd and made him uncomfortable to even mention it. N Gin chanced a glance to Nefarious who was now staring at him. He looked taken aback, surprised. He appeared uneasy as he stopped preening him suddenly.

"Did you mean what you said, that you were concerned for me?" He asked as he leaned over and took the thermos off the console. He wouldn't look at him, but it was was so unexpected that was asking for reassurance. N Gin felt a bit queasy and uncomfortable with himself. It was not a question he expected. His expression was now unreadable as he pretended to be entirely consumed in the contents of the thermos. It made him feel strange as it dawned on him they held similarities to one another, and that Nefarious could be something other than poised and snooty.

"U-uh... Well..." He wasn't certain if he had meant it or not, not in the long term at least. He didn't exactly despise the man, but he didn't hold him in high regard either. N Gin carefully thought out the situation and observed him. If he didn't know better, he thought Nefarious' expression was something of hurt, or apprehension, but surely that wasn't the case. N Gin did not have that much power over him, he didn't have that much power over anybody. He wasn't sure what he felt, but he knew what Nefarious wanted to hear, "Yes."

"I see." Something in his demeanor shifted. It was slight, but it was there, and N Gin noticed. Nefarious poured the liquid into the cup and paused in his motions, "I suppose... I was concerned for you as well."

Concerned for _him_? Why? His thoughts wavered as he looked down when Nefarious offered the cup to him. He appeared a bit distracted as he held it out, "This should help with your headache."

God it smelled so _sweet_. He extended his hands to take it but stopped short when something dawned on him. It made him feel strange, unnerved, "I... I never said my head hurt."

"Oh. I just assumed, with the crash and all."

N Gin did not accept it, merely stared at it in his thoughts. He didn't tell Nefarious any of this. He reasoned it was obvious given the damage and the soot, but the fact remained he had said nothing. He couldn't have heard it through the grapevine, no, he was practically a hermit. He narrowed his eyes in thought, and there was a glimpse of _something_ that suddenly crossed the man's face. It unsettled him.

He tittered uncomfortably. A worry was creeping in as he glanced around. Everything had been so conveniently placed, and Nefarious looked as though he had been waiting up. But what drew his attention the most was the tea. Tea had been made for _him_. This was not something that Tropy drank, its smell was sweet and floral, and everything the man drank was vegetal and robust. He could recall from their first encounter that he despised sweet teas like this, and there was no reason he would make it for himself. Discomfort began to nestle among the worry. Surely, as he often did, he was thinking too much into things. But it still bothered him, and the feeling would not abate, "You know, it's kind of funny... you had all of this ready. Like you knew or something."

Silence. The one time he wanted to hear Tropy's nasally droning laugh of mockery it didn't greet him. N Gin continued, his voice wavered some. The small uneasy was steadily growing into dread, "Ehehe, but, you _didn't_ know, right? You-you would have told me..."

Nefarious lowered the cup some and offered him nothing. He was getting anxious now, low shrill wheezes leaving him as his breathing quickened, "Y-you, you _knew_..."

The quiet incensed him. Why wasn't he saying anything? He just sat there like an idiot with that cup in his hand. Nefarious stared at him pensively before dropped his gaze to the side. N Gin withdrew from him some, inhaling sharply as he repressed that anger building within him. Oh, no, no, _no_...

" _ANSWER. me_!" N Gin screamed at him, the sound greatly distorted. He clenched his fists and banged them on the armrest of the chair in desperation.

"Yes." He said quietly as he focused on the piping liquid within the cup. Anything to divert his attention, anything to keep him _distracted_. It pissed him off. He was so poised and perfect with his stupid tea cup. He hated it, he hated _everything_. N Gin smacked it out of his hand and listened to it clatter against the metal surface of the floor. Nefarious didn't recoil, there were no harsh words, no berating. No teasing or smug grins. The regret, the realization of his mistake, was apparent on his features. He sat there with his hands folded in his lap now. His silence was infuriating, _cowardly_.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?!" He was so angry, so deeply hurt at this knowledge. It was so _cruel_. To think he was allowing the man to make him feel _guilty_ while he sat on something like this all along. He felt betrayed that Nefarious had known something, that he knew how it would end, and never said anything to him. He felt set up, abandoned, _mocked_. His voice was small as he trailed off in a stuttering whine. The glitching of his module made words difficult and distorted in his anguish, "I could have _fixed_ things I... I could have _prepared_... Everything would be better I wouldn't... Why didn't you TELL me?"

He clenched his teeth and glared at Nefarious, seething. The man just looked back at him simply with an unchanging, stoic expression. N Gin shook his head and held his hands over his mouth as he tried to control himself and still his shaking, as he tried to contain those warbling glitching beeps and mechanical stammers. He inhaled deeply and let out a quivering breath, pointing at him threateningly, " _This is your fault_. All of this is _your_. _fault_." 

"It's _easy_ to blame others, isn't it?" He said quietly, knowingly. N Gin glared at him. No, he didn't get to pull this shit.

"No. No, you have no idea... w-what this has _done to me_. You could have prevented this, you- _YOU should have TOLD me_. This is _YOUR_ fault!"

"This _isn't_ my fault." Nefarious started lowly and leaned forward slightly to better look at him, "And you know that."

N Gin went to push him away but it did nothing. Nefarious was so surprisingly solid and all it did was make him embarrass himself more. His stomach churned and seized, like it was filled with hot molten sick. He was trembling and his teeth were clenched so tightly they ached. He asked again, his voice pitiful now, breaking, " _Why didn't you tell me?_ "

"Because it then becomes a self fulfilling prophecy... It creates more problems than it fixes." His discomfort was painfully apparent as he began his own fidgeting, slowly circling his thumb and forefingers together in a methodical circle. His hands shook slightly. Was he nervous?

"There was nothing you, nor I, could have done any differently to change the outcome. Some things just..." He sighed, lifting his hands as though he were searching for words, then giving up and allowing them to fall to his lap, " _Happen_. No matter how many times we try to correct them, or what we do to alter the outcome... the end result is _always_ the same."

No, _no_ he couldn't accept that. He didn't _want_ to accept that. It made him feel like he was destined to be a failure and it made everything seem so hopeless. He could feel the man brushing the defiant hairs back into place again and N Gin recoiled sharply, eyes wide as he stared at him with such animosity. He didn't want the man touching him, he didn't even want to _look_ at him. But he kept talking, incessantly droning, "Though we don't initially see it, sometimes good things come of it."

A short, hysterical laugh burst forth from N Gin at this statement. Was this not the same man who had been throwing a complete tantrum and isolated himself to pout and wallow? He was stupid, delusional. They lived in entirely different worlds. Nothing good was going to come from this. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_. The fact that Tropy would even insinuate something like that was _infuriating_. Nefarious had nothing to lose in his failure, but N Gin had lost everything. He had lost _everything_...

He whined, frustrated, angry, _desperate_. There had to be something he could have done to make it better. He knew what to expect now, he could make the back up systems, he could tell Tropy to shove the little trinket up his ass, and he could never have come here to begin with. What if he went back and never even offered to fix the man's arm? All that time he would have saved, all that distraction eliminated... Couldn't he go back? Couldn't he fix it?

"I want to go back, I-I want to make it better. I can make it _better_ I can _fix_ it!" He said frantically and gripped Nefarious' lab coat tightly, balling it in his fists and pulling on him, "Show me how! I-I can fix it, _I can fix it_! Please..."

"You can't." He said softly, gently prying his hands off him. Tropy regarded him sadly, his expression one of sympathy, "It doesn't work that way."

"B-but... But I...I can-I can fix it, I..." He stammered out. His heart was pounding in his chest as panic seized him and pulled him so deeply into his turmoil. It dragged him into an abyss that he was trying so hard to escape. This was too much, everything was too much. He was predestined to fail, that is what Tropy was telling him. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he worked or what he tried, it would have ended the same way- _failure_.

He was sniveling now as everything hit him at once. That is what he meant that he was concerned. That is why Nefarious held onto the little tool, to draw him back, because he _knew_ he was going to fail. Was he really so predictable? But why would he do that? What was his motivation? Until now he had been nothing but an errand boy and an object of amusement to the man. There was nothing N Gin could offer to him, why did he not just leave him be to rot away in his misery? Everything was so confusing. He bowed his head, fervently shaking it as he tried to hush his rapid thoughts, his body still and rigid as he muttered to himself desperately.

His high point was over, he'd reached his peak years ago and there was no where to go but down- and he was rapidly spiraling. He was suddenly angry, jealous, bitter that this is what he was left with, and that now he was being tossed aside. He'd given _everything_ to Cortex- his company assets, his research, his loyalty, complete and utter devotion and servitude. All of that was for nothing. The man was going to leave him, and all this time, all the months of planning, all the tireless nights of building, the worry and anxiety and the desperation to right himself... _None of it had ever mattered_.

He was having an existential crisis in front of Nefarious and the reality of it was absolutely mortifying. What must the man think of him now? A pitiful whimper left him as he broke completely. He was wracked with strangled, distorted sobs as he clutched his head in his hands, hiccuping and gasping as his anxiety mounted. There was nothing he could have done any differently and there was no way to redeem himself. It was an impossible concept to grasp and made him feel entirely hopeless. He sobbed again, pitiful and wretched.

Something slowly enveloped him. It was cool, but soothing as it drew him near. He realized that Nefarious had pulled him into a hug, his long arms draped across his shoulders. N Gin bristled and there was a hesitant pat on his back in response. In his surprise he forgot his sobbing, or what was upsetting him so terribly in the first place. But it slowly came back to him and the affection made it almost _worse_. The kindness practically siphoned the misery out of him. It pulled at whatever deep yearning resided in his core and ripped it out of him with choked, wavering cries.

"I'm sorry." Was all the man offered, low and hushed, and it tore another sob out of him in turn. The feeling stirred by these two simple words displaced _everything_. Nefarious patted him again, awkwardly, and he was clearly uncomfortable, but he was making an effort. N Gin pressed his face into his shoulder and tentatively returned the affection. He clutched the fabric of his lab coat in his hands, essentially clinging to him like he was an anchor. And right now, he was. The small gesture and the condolence made such a deep pain well up within his chest, but it soothed the anger that always followed. There was no backfiring of his ignited missile, or childish tantrum as he threw things across the room, as he destroyed his own belongings and ruined everything precious to him. He sniveled and sobbed and though he was embarrassed by the situation, he found he enjoyed the attention. It made the agony less lonesome and that ever present yearning gradually fade. 

"You're wasting your time, you know..." Tropy began quietly once he'd started to finally calm down. He could feel his voice vibrate in his chest and pleasantly against his face. The comforting affection and the low drone of his words made him feel sleepy, content. He was still hurting inside, but that too had eased some. His sobbing had abated and was replaced with the occasional pathetic snorting sniffle as he collected himself. The man continued, "Sulking... _Crying_... all of this is counter productive."

N Gin resisted his urge to cling as Nefarious pulled away from him slowly. He looked at him intently, taking the cloth from earlier and offered it to him. N Gin took it hesitantly and wiped the traces of his breakdown from his face as Tropy continued, "I understand that you failed. As did I... And so will Cortex."

" _No_. No, D-Doctor Cortex-"

"Will _fail_ because he refuses to learn from his mistakes." Tropy cut him off. N Gin muttered awkwardly but offered no real reply. He was afraid to admit it, but the other man was right. Cortex was brilliant, but he was impulsive, stubborn, and refused to learn from past failures. It was terrible, but there was an odd comfort that someone else shared the same concerns.

"Our failures only make us when we refuse to _learn_ from them. You are not your shortcomings. But you will be, if you allow it. You can sit here and cry, you can mourn, but all you're doing is wasting your own precious time." He continued when N Gin offered him no response, "It's an unfortunate setback, yes. But surely you can learn something from all this. The mistakes that you made, you will either repeat countless times, again and again... or, you will _remember_ today. You will remember these feelings, your shame, the regret of what you could have done _better_ , and you will move forward. You will _make_ something of it."

He chuckled uncomfortably. Did he really appear that bad off that he needed a pep talk from Nefarious? He wouldn't deny that he appreciated it. His words were reassuring, and comforting. He couldn't really recall a time when anyone had really spoken to him like this. It resonated with him, and made him see the man very differently. It made him forget the anger, the hurt, the feeling of betrayal, even momentarily.

"Judging by that little head of yours, and what you managed to do in the wake of tragedy, I would say you're _perfectly_ capable of handling most setbacks that come your way." Tropy said, his tone light, pleasant. N Gin found he enjoyed listening to his lecture, the praise, the vote of confidence. If anything, it was consoling and nursed the constricting ache in his chest. The words fell short, however, and he just couldn't bring himself to believe them, not about this. They held truth but simply did not apply to this situation.

"I don't... I-I don't know about that. This... it's _different_. It isn't my decision. Doctor... Cortex is getting rid of me because of this." N Gin whispered quietly. The words stirred pain in his chest and threatened to break him again. It was so excruciating to say and to admit it out loud.

"And is that really so terrible?" Nefarious raised a brow. He clearly noted the smaller man's fearful expression and sighed, "I doubt it. He's probably just pouting. He's 'gotten rid of' me countless times."

"That's-that's not the same. You don't _know_ him like I do."

"He won't get rid of you." Nefarious shook his head, "He _needs_ you too much. He's _parasitic_."

 _Parasitic_. Never had he heard his superior described in such a way. It was offensive, disparaging, and he didn't say anything to refute it. He briefly felt that he had an ally of some kind, and he didn't want to squelch it by defending Cortex's name. Did that make him terrible? He was certain it did, but right now his own selfishness outweighed his morals. 

"I don't understand why you're so afraid to be without him."

"I-I can't do anything else." He said nervously and rubbed his hands together. He wasn't sure how else to word it without melting down into a pathetic, blubbering mess again. Such heavy doubt weighed on him and tainted everything it touched.

"Well, what did you do before this?" Nefarious asked curiously, "How did you even come to work for him?"

"I worked in defense..." He swallowed audibly, "But uh... there were budget cuts, and one of our projects went off prematurely. We couldn't contain it so, _this_ happened... And Doctor Cortex was the only person who would take me in after. There was a position available, and I-I started working for him."

"What is your background, then?"

"Physics." N Gin muttered out. He didn't understand where Tropy was going with this, or why he was so suddenly interested in anything about him other than his life support system.

"Ah, like minds." He chuckled softly. It had never really dawned on him but he supposed that Nefarious primary concern would be physics as well, "You're very adaptable then."

He shook his head some and twiddled his thumbs. He was too dejected over his ineptitude to entertain such a thought, and the looming fear that he was going to be abandoned soured anything kind the doctor could offer him. But he did not relent in whatever game he was trying to play.

"It's clear you're capable of great things. The vessel you made was _very_ impressive. I've never seen anything like it."

His lips turned up in a small, sheepish smile as he felt his ears redden. He didn't know why Nefarious was trying to flatter him, but he certainly enjoyed the praise. It went to his head and made his face flush as a nervous wheezing titter left him with a small puff of steam as his body attempted to cool itself.

"No, really. It's genius. I would have liked to have seen it in its completed state. I'm sure it was remarkable." 

The praise and flattery clung to his thoughts and surrounded them with warmth, but the fuzziness in his mind faded a bit. If he'd wanted to see it so badly, then why didn't he? N Gin looked at him curiously, "Why... do you stay in here all the time? Do you ever leave?"

"It's just hard to pull myself away. I'm sure you understand." He chuckled some and regarded him kindly, "You know, I'm curious... That little gift I gave you, did you manage to find the time to do anything with it?"

"Oh, uh..." The question took him off guard and he patted himself. He'd forgotten he was carrying it with him. N Gin withdrew it from his pocket and held it. It was smooth and hot against his bare hands and made his finger tips tingle from the energy that resonated within. The gentle ticks no longer felt accusatory, but they did stir anxiety. Looking at it was still a reminder of wasted time, wasted efforts. Tropy's words played in his head, that nothing could have changed, but he was struggling to accept them as truth. Nefarious disrupted his thoughts as he took it from him and turned it over in his hand, examining it.

"Marvelous." Tropy said, a ghost of a genuine smile resting on his face, "I want you to help me with something."

He thought a moment then shook his head, a dejected murmur wavering out of him. He didn't want to do anything, he just wanted to go back into his room and wait for Cortex to eventually collect him. The familiar nasally chortle reached his ears.

"Ahh, how _silly_ of me. I gave you the impression I was _asking_." Tropy got to his feet and went over to one of the towering metal pillars. It opened for him and within were hundreds, possibly thousands, of sources of light all turned to a center node. It was so intricate, complicated, each small mirror within turned ever slightly in a precise, exact manner. It hummed pleasantly but it faded quickly, the orange-yellow light disappearing from within and its sides as he withdrew the core from its center. N Gin felt disappointed that he'd gotten such a small glance of its inner-workings but his attention was diverted to Nefarious who now stood closely in front of him, "Hold out your hands."

In a delayed fashion, he did as instructed and nearly fell out of his chair as Nefarious dropped the core into his awaiting hands. It was so heavy, and he knew Tropy had done that on purpose just to earn a startled glitching squeak from him. N Gin quickly forgot his embarrassment and held the object in his lap, turning it over to examine it.

It was large and bulbous, and he assumed to be some sort of power core. It made his hands and arms tingle almost painfully from the energy it contained. Normally the ones he saw were cylindrical or cubed in their makeup, but this more closely resembled a dodecahedron. It was an interesting design, and since the entire generator seemed to run off some sort of solar power, the numerous faces would aid in redirecting and absorbing energy. At least, that was his theory. He couldn't reason why anyone would choose something like this otherwise. He snorted suddenly with a giggle, "Hehe, i-it looks like a dice from Wizards and Lizards..."

Nefarious cocked his brow and looked down at him in scrutiny. N Gin's chuckle this time was small and meek, "I-it's uh... It's a game where-"

"I _know_ what it is." The taller man sighed out tiredly, "I need you to _focus_ for a moment. This is a reactor core. I'm going through them quickly and I don't have enough time to keep up with the demand."

N Gin stared up at him in silence. He looked as though there was something burdening him, but he did't ask. It wasn't as though he would receive an answer anyway. Nefarious trailed his eyes along one of the operational pillars in thought, "If I show you how to make these cores, do you think you can replicate them?"

"I-I can try." It was so soothingly warm and made his fingers buzz as he traced over the blunted edges and multiple faces experimentally. He wanted to curl up with it and sleep, or hold it against his throbbing head for comfort. 

"You either _can_ or you _can't_. Which is it?" Tropy regarded him coolly and rested his hands behind his back. He suddenly felt very pressured and nervous. After such an extreme failure, how could Nefarious expect him to dive into a new project, and so soon? He had knowledge of these power sources, but they were not his forte. The Time Twister was such a delicate machine as it was, what if he did something wrong? Then again, he was certain Nefarious would monitor everything...

He drummed his fingers against the core as he slowly began to wonder something. Was the doctor trying to help him? The thought was silly, but some of the things he'd said, the encouragement, the kindness paid to him...

 _You're very adaptable._  
_You are not your shortcomings_.  
_It's clear you're capable of great things_.

"Well?" He said impatiently, folding his arms across his chest, "It's a simple question. I haven't got all day."

N Gin looked down at the device again. The pleasantries fell short. Another failure so soon would possibly push him over the edge, but this would be his chance to learn about the Time Twister. It would satisfy his own curiosity... And possibly win him favour with Cortex if he could collect anything substantial. That thought alone encouraged him. It brought out desperation, excitement. He clutched it tightly to his body. This could be his saving grace, "Yes."

"Wonderful. We'll start today, then. If you're up to the task?"

"I gu _e-e-e-e-_ " He cut himself short and held his hand over his mouth and cleared his throat, earning another squealing of glitching electronics.

"What's wrong with your module? You've been very _noisy_ all evening." Nefarious asked, his voice wavering in amusement. He thought the sounds were _funny_. That was better than irritation, he supposed.

"Nothing." He rubbed his throat dismissively. He would run a diagnostic later, right now he lacked the focus and energy for such a delicate task, and he was eager to get to work on something new, something different. His speech center being damaged caused him little distress compared to the breach earlier.

"Doesn't _sound_ that way."

"It's alright, it's nothing. I can fix it myself."

"Oh, then why haven't you?" He tsked.

N Gin parted his lips to speak then shot Nefarious a look. He was teasing him again by using his own words against him, but it was lighter, kinder, and earned a chuckle from him instead of a frustration. This seemed to appease the taller man as he turned the chair around to face the console. He keyed in something and in front of him there was a multidimensional display of the core. It rotated slowly in its green light and he hesitantly touched it, withdrawing his hand with a hiss of pain as it shocked him. 

"Hmm, maybe _now_ you'll learn to keep your hands to yourself..." Tropy muttered with a smug grin as he took a seat of his own and typed different commands into the console, each one displaying a different section of the core on its own little projection. There were so many components to it, so many parts. It was so intricate, so overwhelming and complicated, and he loved it. It filled him with such a great excitement he began to tremble.

Nefarious took his time explaining its layout to N Gin, offering him patience when he asked questions and occasionally teasing him about his warped chirps and beeps. The entire experience was unexpected and refreshing. The more Tropy explained its design and function to him, the more he slowly began to understand it, and how the entire structure worked as a whole. It was new and exciting, it was intriguing and he felt so privileged and special for being allowed such delicate knowledge, and he felt secure in himself for comprehending It. It was frightening, unnerving, but it gave him a wavering hope that perhaps there was still something substantial, something capable, buried within him. Perhaps working alongside Nefarious would not be such a disappointing experience after all.


	4. Synnecrosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I had a lot of things to try and work out in this.  
> The entire chapter was getting close to forty pages before even being done, so I tried to split it up to make it more manageable.

He swayed in place slowly, head tilting and bobbing slightly as he dozed off where he stood. There was no time for sleep, Nefarious had practically _forbidden_ it. The most rest he'd had was when he repaired his system, but that wasn't exactly what he would call relaxing. He didn't know what he was getting himself into when he agreed to help the man with his little 'project'. Tropy obsessed so frantically over time that the most he'd gotten in days was a nap. Sure, he was an insomniac, but it seemed Nefarious was something else entirely.

He didn't understand what the great urgency was, why he couldn't even rest his eyes for a moment. The core he'd been instructed to replicate had not only been completed, but duplicated numerous times over. But he was afraid to complain. He needed this so _badly_ for himself. If anything could redeem him in his superior's eyes, it lay in the Time Twister.

Tangible information was so hard to obtain. He was rarely alone down there, and he could always feel Tropy's gaze boring through him, watching him wordlessly, and scrutinizing everything he did. As a result, he hadn't been able to sneak off to pilfer through his belongings like he'd initially planned, and to his own frustration the good doctor didn't _allow_ him to take notes of his own. He would seize them, making a display of snatching them out of his hands and disposing of them. He was cautious, and it was warranted. 

He barely knew N Gin and it was made abundantly clear he didn't trust Cortex, not with something so delicate. His wariness was respectable, but terribly inconvenient. Still, he made due, and he found ways to hide the occasional snippet here and there.

N Gin jerked his head slightly, eyes rolling as he roused himself from the perpetual twilight state he lingered in as of late. It was so hard to rouse himself right now. The air was so pleasantly cool, crisp, nothing like the stuffy warmth of the little hub he'd been cooped up in. The station was quiet, its placid drone practically lulling him to sleep with its seductive dulcet roar. He yawned and ran his hand through his hair, scratching tiredly then shaking his head to try and bring himself around. Apparently Tropy was rubbing off on him as he scolded himself inwardly for wasting so much time. Though meager, Nefarious had been gracious and given him a break. 

He'd pissed away most of it lingering outside Cortex's quarters. He was procrastinating, jittery inside from lack of sleep, and antsy from not having faced the man since his recent failure. He needed to make good use of this time but he was just flagrantly wasting it standing around and doing absolutely nothing. It had been difficult to convince Nefarious to allow him some time out of the hub, but after sulking about and shooting him some pitiful looks (carefully practiced, of course), he'd caved and with a dramatic sigh given him 'exactly one hour, and no more', to stretch his legs.

The break itself had been desperately needed. His wrists were catching and fingers seized from the tireless, repetitive motions. His shoulders and back ached from holding the same slouched position for hours working on the intricate device. Focusing so intently on his work without rest had also given him a headache. N Gin was absolutely exhausted and felt dazed from the barrage of information that had practically been crammed into his head in such a short period of time. 

Nefarious had been so _generous_ with his knowledge, and shown him much about the Time Twister, though he knew it was barely a scratch against the surface. It was the superficial mechanics, but he thrived on it. His main concern had been maintaining the generators, and after mentioning the visual shudder of the orb leading to their own timeline, he showed him how to maintain the component and stabilize it. The mechanics of it all were familiar, and therefore readily absorbed, but the entire thing was still so overwhelming. The more he'd come to better understand how the structure worked, a small wriggling confidence attempted to nestle in his chest among the debris of his failure. Perhaps he really was adaptable.

Though he understood the necessity, a part of him still couldn't comprehend why Nefarious trusted him with such sensitive information, and so quickly. He wasn't ungrateful, quite the opposite, but he was left confused at his motives. It had become gradually apparent that he was overworked and overwhelmed at the task given to him. Tropy had remarked the machine hadn't been used like this before, nor had it ever had to maintain so many open timelines at once without rest. It would be burdensome to maintain it alone at this point, he reasoned. But despite this, an unease still surrounded it all.

He sighed at himself in annoyance for being such a wuss that he couldn't even knock on a _door_. So instead, he was cowardly as he leaned forward to press his ear against its metal surface. His face scrunched with concentration as he listened closely. The only sound that greeted him was the low humming of the station. Was he even in there? Cortex was the whole reason he'd come here. The break itself had not been for rest, not entirely at least. It was a needed moment to drop off the little tidbits he'd picked up here and there. He couldn't go back to the reactor with them, that would be _stupid._ But leaving them laying about in his quarters was worse and he wasn't going to barge into Cortex's room, he was in the fire enough as it was.

He pulled the torn clippings of paper out of his lab coat and thumbed through them. He'd gone to great lengths to obtain these, and though alone they were nothing substantial, together they held a host of ideas. It hadn't been easy, but he'd managed.

It made him nervous to work around Nefarious with information scattered all over his body. Each time the man would get close to him or peer over his shoulder to pick apart his work, it would perturb him. Occasionally, he would rest his hand on his shoulder, or hold his hand to better guide him through assembling the troublesome component. What if a scrap of paper was sticking out just the right way, or what if he discovered that he'd balled it up and shoved it down into the small gaps of the tips of his gloves, or packed it off to the side of his mouth like gum in a frantic act to hide it?

But he _hadn't_ , and he felt like he'd gotten away with something so incredible. Nefarious Tropy seemed to pride himself in being this all knowing being but he didn't even know when someone was stealing right under his nose. When he thought about it like that, it made something odd pull at him, making him faintly queasy. But he brushed it off. The thought of Cortex's approval overshadowed everything else. 

The revelation he'd been standing here with his face against the door became apparent when his cheek squeaked against the surface as he slipped slightly. He'd nearly dozed off again in his musings, and he scolded himself again, but quickly realized he was not alone.

There was something in front of him now and in a delayed fashion he followed the buttons of the white lab coat up to the man's face, an airy, nervous chuckle leaving him. He wondered how long Cortex had actually been standing there. It wasn't exactly flattering to be caught trying to eavesdrop on someone's private moments...

An awkward lull fell between them as they stood in a mutual silence. The entire situation was clearly uncomfortable for the both of them. Cortex's face was set in a scowl, though not without a trace of curiosity. It felt strange seeing him again, as though he hadn't seen him in years even though it had only been a few days, if even that.

Cortex was the one who broke the quiet with a tired sigh, " _What_ are you doing here?"

"Hehe. Just... _waiting_ for you, sir. I want to talk to you."

"I'm busy." He pushed past him to enter his quarters and turned to slide the door behind him but N Gin caught it, wedging it with his hand.

"Hhnn, but I think you'll _like_ what I have to say..." N Gin wheezed out excitedly in his reedy tone. He stared at the man hopefully through the gap created and heard Cortex's frustrated grunt of effort as he tried to close it, but he couldn't. N Gin had always been stronger than him, "I just need a few minutes. I _have_ something for you..."

The delight elicited by that statement drew a smirk from the little cyborg. Cortex _loved_ gifts. Offerings, trinkets, bobbles, it didn't matter, just any sort of tangible recognition. He was greedy and loved to be spoiled, and N Gin did enjoy spoiling him when he was able. If anything, it made him more malleable and receptive, and it made that rift of power between them close some, even for just a moment. 

Cortex backed away from the door and allowed him entry, staring at him expectantly. The promise of a gift was a bit _misleading_... Actually, it was _incredibly_ misleading, and when this became apparent to Cortex, the glowing delight soured to a sneer.

He didn't really have much for him in terms of trinkets, but he did come with information. Wordlessly, he extended his hand, showing his palm and the mess of paper scraps that lay in it. He felt suddenly nervous as he caught that glint in the man's eye, that look of avarice mingled with curiosity as his attention was drawn to the offering presented before him. N Gin gave them to the man freely, boldly playing his entire hand at once. There was no need for explanation on what N Gin had delivered to him- it was obvious. 

It was all there; the power cores, the turbines, the intricate water clocks below, the delicate rift portals. He noticed Cortex pause on this especially and a wide smirk spread across his features. That was good, wasn't it? Everything Nefarious had told him and everything he could recall was there. The papers were messy with hastily scrawled doodles and marred handwriting. It was hard to read and ugly to look at, but the information was _there_.

While Cortex was looking this over he found he was mentally pleading with him to reconsider his dismissal, to see his worth, to see he was capable and deserving of recognition. There was such a aching pang of uncertainty in his gut as he watched Cortex practically dissect the 'gift'.

After a time Cortex spoke, tilting his head slightly in his curiosity, never diverting his attention away from the papers, "How did you get these, N Gin?"

"I've been talking with Doctor Tropy. He's asked me to help him with the Time Twister. I think he's... _ooooverwhelmed_? So he asked me for assistance..." He said and glanced up at the clock behind his superior. He had ten minutes left. He reassured himself that it was plenty of time. Something had shifted in the man's face, very slightly but it was there. He was so expressive and animated that any small change in his mood was noticeable. N Gin couldn't place it, but it just added to his unease.

"He's asked _you_ to work with him? You." He scoffed some, shaking his head in disbelief. That small look grew into something of contempt as he thumbed through the crumpled shreds of paper. 

He couldn't help but feel a bit miffed. All of this was Cortex's idea as it was. N Gin didn't hate Nefarious but he wasn't someone he would have ever willing sought out to this degree unless prodded. But after mulling it over a moment, he reasoned such news would carry a sting of hurt. N Gin had accomplished what Cortex had failed at- getting close to Nefarious, and in turn collecting information from him.

Since the beginning he could recall Cortex wasn't thrilled about Tropy's presence. It was something thrust upon them by Uka Uka. How embarrassing it would be to call in an outsider, a stranger, because you were seen as too incompetent. Not only that, but there was such an obvious power struggle between them to earn the mask's favour. Tropy was a glaring reminder of his own failings, and all this together drove such a wedge between them from his superior's side. 

He knew these things because he lingered close by to listen to moments that were not his. He gleaned information never meant for his ears. But Cortex also _confided_ in him, if it could really be called that. He would get drunk, and the words would pour out of him faster than the glasses could be refilled. It was such a special privilege to be the man's confidant, even if he was just listening to dejected drunken ramblings, most of which made little sense half the time. Before, he'd vaguely mentioned a falling out, a final straw of sorts, but never went into detail. In the beginning they'd worked together, but it ended so abruptly.

Cortex had built the cloning station below the reactor but whatever happened during that union had dissolved quickly. He had asked Tropy about it, his curiosity goading him to be nosy. Much like his superior, he had said little of substance, most of it simply being disparaging words about the man. But after his ranting and raving, he admitted there had been some sort of disagreement, something said or something done, that changed how Nefarious viewed Cortex. Whatever transpired, he held onto it. He was only doing this as a favour to Uka Uka and he made it clear once this was done he'd be leaving. It seemed a little dramatic over one disagreement, but given the nature of the two and how they clashed, he really should expect no different.

All of this together had created such a _mess_. The dynamic was terrible, there was no communication between the two, and they childishly kept information from one another just for spite. Both of them were too stubborn and proud to yield to the other, and their bickering is what put him in this situation to begin with. He wanted to know what actually happened, but Cortex certainly was not the one to ask. He had pushed N Gin towards Nefarious, yes, but if he knew his name had been on their lips, and that N Gin had discussed his private matters, it would not bode well. He needed to choose his words carefully, so he chose none at all.

N Gin held his silence, glancing at the clock now and again while Cortex tried to decipher his handwriting. He was starting to get a bit nervous because his hour was nearly up, but he couldn't rightly turn on his heel and leave. He'd practically been granted an audience with Cortex and like hell if he was going to ruin his once chance to redeem himself just because Tropy was a control freak.

"So..." Cortex finally looked at him, seemingly content. He was relaxed now, that was a good start, "Tell me about these. I'm having some trouble making out your handwriting..."

"Well... he hasn't really explained it much, but from what I understand it's self sustaining. It's hydro-solar, but he uses artificial light sources- the cores I drew. The lower part of the machine pulls water from the surrounding sea, and heats it up to store the steam to use for energy. I know there's some kind of material to transfer the energy and contain it, but I've never seen it, and I doubt it's anything in our timeline.

"I don't... _fully_ understand how the entire thing works together but it uh... I think it's like those solar farms in the desert, only more efficient and contained... When I did an analysis, at full capacity it has the potential to generate about two gigawatts which is... honestly incredible for its size, sir. Just think of the possibilities if we could actually utilize it for ourselves."

He paused, awaiting feedback but there was none. Cortex wasn't even looking at him now, his attention once again drawn to the presented work. N Gin took it as his opportunity to continue his rambling, "I-I just thought that with you working on dimensional travel, it would require as much if not more energy than the Time Twister. Hhn, I know it's like a giant turbine-"

"Yes, yes... and it manages to exert enough force to alter the gravitational field to open a wormhole in the continuum. I _know_ how a time machine works, N Gin." He rolled his eyes and clutched the papers in his fist. N Gin stared ahead dejected, irritated, and sneered slightly. If Cortex was apparently so _all knowing_ then why in the hell had he even tasked him with this in the first place? He didn't voice it, that would be foolish, but it felt good to turn it over in his mind. 

"But..." Cortex began, relaxing his hand and pulling a few choice scraps from the pile to look over them again.

He perked up hearing that word. His irritation melted, all annoyance forgotten with the combined hope and dread that word brought with it. It could offer retribution, or damnation. He drummed his fingers together, hopeful, nervous. He was drawing it out and the anticipation practically stole the breath from him. _Just say something already._

"I can make use of these. Perhaps you aren't _entirely_ worthless..." Cortex stated simply. A tic of delighted, wheezing laughter gripped his subordinate with this statement. Oh the relief that washed over him was _euphoric_ and made him feel lightheaded and drunk. He didn't say anything in turn, he couldn't- he was too excited to form proper words. There was no need to risk saying something stupid and ruining his good fortune.

"Later on, I want you to summarize this for me in a formal report. And _please_ do something about that appalling handwriting of yours, I need to be able to actually _read_ it..." He carefully arranged the scraps together and slid them into one of the inner pockets of his lab coat, "This is _our_ project, after all."

 _Our_ project. He felt momentarily stupid as the words struck him. The invisible membrane that connected them together had been salvaged. He was absolutely _delighted_ while he absentmindedly ambled beside Cortex as he left the room. He was following him like an attentive puppy, eager, elated, positively _basking_ in his master's attention. Our project, _our_ project. No matter how many times he turned it over in his head it made him feel flushed and dizzy with delight. It made all coherent thoughts fall distant and crumble into those two wonderful words. _Our project._

He was too absorbed in his self indulgence to notice Cortex had stopped in front of him, but he was quickly pulled out of his fantasies when he knocked into him. Cortex glared at him and he gave a nervous titter, shuffling backwards a bit to allow him some space. They were at the transporter, and he noted the laser pistol on the man's side. He hadn't seen _that_ for a while. N Gin rubbed his hands together slowly, curious, but apprehensive, "Where are you going, sir?"

"Where do you think? I'm going to take care of the bandicoot problem. Or have you already forgotten what you left me with?"

"No, no sir." He shook his head quickly in a shrill response, eager to reassure him and appease. The elation practically evaporated out of him. It was different being reminded of his recent failure from his superior. He had revisited it dozens, possibly hundreds of times, in his mind. He hadn't recovered from it, not at all, but he was learning to function again. Nefarious helped, the work was a good distraction, and it was never brought up between them. But being reminded of it from an outside source, especially Cortex, threatened to break something within him again.

Cortex had already forgotten him and was focused on the control panel. He entered the needed coordinates and the orb appeared as expected, but quickly blipped out, fizzling and crackling defiantly as it struggled to maintain its form. It shuddered and attempted to right itself but then disappeared completely with a hiss. He tsked and glowered at its absence, "Unbelievable. He has _one_ job and he can't even do that right... Has he _still_ not been up here to maintain it? Do I have to do _everything_ myself?"

"Ah, I don't know. He hasn't left the reactor as far as I know. I think he's just overwhelmed and probably forgot..." He stopped short and made a face, a small grimace. Why was he _defending_ Tropy? And to the worst possible person, as well. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and tried to correct himself, "Hehe, b-but you're right, there isn't any excuse... _I_ can fix it for you, though..." 

Cortex seemed appeased at this and he said nothing more as he worked. The visual glitches and instability was becoming more frequent. He was able to fix it for Cortex, but it took some time and a few shocks to his fingers before allowing it stability. It didn't matter, he didn't really mind. He would take the ache in his fingers if it meant earning his keep. All it did was give him a chance to show Cortex some of his newly learned prowess. He found himself mentally pleading again to look at how capable, how _adaptable_ , he was. Look how quickly he'd bounced back from his defeat. He was worth keeping, wasn't he? He wasn't traitorous or vindictive like _Brio_. He was willing to compromise, practically willing to do anything. Even he was vaguely aware that his loyalty to the man bordered on an obsession at times, and right now, in his wounded and desperate state, that became painfully apparent. 

The returning warbling blip of the rift pulled him from his thoughts. He watched Cortex step through it, the orb engulfing him and drawing him in like water through a drain. N Gin lingered briefly, hesitating while he watched it shudder again before finally stepping through it as well. He followed him through, bumping into him again on the other side. Cortex had stopped short in his path, and N Gin let out a confused murmur then quickly understood why. Nefarious blocked the way.

He was calm, stoic, arms rested behind his back as he stared down at them both. It was unexpected to see him here, but at least he wasn't secluding himself from fresh air completely. The relief he felt seeing him somewhere other than the cramped little hub confused him, but he ignored it. He was wearing his time suit and all it did was add to his intimidation factor. It made him appear larger than he really was, and the eerie green glow that flickered from the various clock faces was both hypnotic and unsettling. He wasn't aware he'd finished repairing it, and he'd gotten so used to seeing him only in his lab coat by this point that the sight struck him as almost odd. There was a tense quiet between the two men as they regarded one another coolly, the only sound filling the silence was the rhythmic pumping of the pistons on the time suit. 

"Doctor Tropy." Cortex greeted him first, his voice a bit airy and smile too wide in the forced pleasantry.

"Cortex." He said with less enthusiasm, disinterested as he shifted his focus to N Gin. The little cyborg commanded his attention entirely, and he knew Cortex was _incensed_ at being dismissed so casually. Tropy clucked his tongue in disappointment, "You're _late_..."

"Late for what?" Cortex regarded him curiously. N Gin flicked his eyes between the two, suddenly nervous at the combined stares. This was horrifically uncomfortable and he felt caught in the middle of something he really had no business in. In a way it reminded him of situations in the past with his parents, and those memories only made this ordeal all the more embarrassing and awkward. In his fluster, all words left him.

"Oh he didn't _tell_ you? He's assisting me. This little 'conquest' of yours is _very_ taxing on my machine..." Nefarious said simply, droning his words almost affectionately as he stared at N Gin, and more so spoke _at_ Cortex than directly to him. It was dismissive and rude, and it was intentional. It was terrible of him, but he envied the man's boldness. 

He knew he was being used just to spite his superior, but it wasn't as though he could rightly say anything to ease the tension. Anything he said would just make matters worse, there was no correct answer when in the presence of these two. Tropy then added, his tone kinder, which made for such a strangely intimate moment, "He's been invaluable. You should really appreciate him more."

The odd compliment made him flush and he repressed the small smile that threatened to curl his lips. He couldn't smile, that would show his compliance. But the urge faded quickly. It wasn't genuine, it was just was just a way to pick at the man. But he relished in the words spoken anyway and absorbed the seldom heard praise. Even if it was meaningless, it filled him up with a radiance, be it muddled and pained.

Nefarious held his gaze a moment before diverting his attention to the large console. The way Tropy looked at him was so _deliberate_ , and everything he did was so precise. For a moment he admired him and watched him hook something up to one of the ports of the towering console. He was always busy with something, wasn't he?

N Gin realized he'd been silent for some time now, and that he'd been openly watching the taller man. When he remembered himself he was startled as Cortex was glaring at him, and likely had been for a while. He'd been caught staring, and it made him flush a bit. Now it was his turn to have an awkward moment with Cortex.

He seemed a bit befuddled, perhaps even flustered at the strange display; the silent exchange of glances and the small snippet of praise, "Am I _interrupting_ something between the two of you?"

"Uh, no. No, sir. It's nothing like that..." N Gin shook his head, dismissing his thoughts. He was embarrassed, but at least his head wasn't venting like it normally would. The cold air around around him was gracious. Everything had been going well and now all of that was at risk because Nefarious was _petty_. N Gin danced around the question with a noncommittal sound and tried to change the subject, "How... are you going to do it?"

"It took some doing, but I think I've found a solution to our problem. Uka Uka brought something to my attention... If we can get rid of _their_ mask, we can get rid of the bandicoots."

"Eheheh, what do you mean?" He was always so eager to hear what Cortex had planned.

"Think about it." He idly circled N Gin, gazing pensively up at the abyss of the night sky. It was so placid up here and even Cortex was not immune to its beauty. On the contrary, he appreciated such things, and he'd found the man here numerous times admiring it. He would never admit it, of course, "Uka Uka is indestructible, and the two masks are of the same cloth... er, tree? Hmm..."

He trailed off in his musing then shrugged, "Anyway... Aku Aku is the source of power, as long as _he_ is around there will always be a problem."

N Gin mulled this over, tapping his chin as he did so. That actually did make sense. Wherever the bandicoots were, that mask was sure to follow. It was benevolent and protected them, shielding them from harm and corruption. Crash and Coco were gifted, they were talented and excelled at everything they did, but without their protector and guide, they were ultimately two frightened children swinging blindly. They would be at such a disadvantage...

"There was a project I was working on before this. I spoke with Uka Uka, and we settled on the idea to trap his brother in a paradox of sorts. You see, there's this dormant portal..."

" _What_?" This earned Tropy's attention. He made no effort to hide his irritation as he pushed away from the console, "And when were you going to discuss this with _me_?"

"I'm sorry, was I _talking to you_?" Cortex wheeled around on him and N Gin sighed inwardly. They were going to _bicker_ , it was almost a given when they were in the same room with one another.

"Ohh... It's _you_." He said lowly as he pointed threateningly, something apparently profound dawning upon him, " _You_ are the reason I'm not at full capacity..."

Cortex chuckled, his tone patronizing, "Oh, _Nefarious_ I am sure there are _many_ reasons you are not fully operational..." 

Tropy stared down with a glower, seething in silence. He wasn't just pissed, he was _furious_. Cortex rolled his eyes, " _Relax_... Honestly, you're in no position to complain. You've made it difficult on me. It's _impossible_ to talk business when you're never _anywhere_ to be found."

"Don't waste my time with such nonsense. You have known, this entire time, _exactly_ where I am." 

"It's just that I'm actually very busy. I don't have _time_ to just stop in for a chat. I have these two associates I have to pick up the slack for. It leaves little time for _pleasantries_." he glanced at N Gin then back to Nefarious, "But it looks like you've managed to find time for your own. What an overachiever you are..."

The taller man frowned and ignored the dig, " _I_ don't have time to work on it for you. Believe it or not, I actually have other responsibilities than appeasing _you_. Find something _else_."

His tone bordered on giddy, "How convenient! It just so happens I don't need your help, I actually don't need you _at all_." 

This perturbed something in Tropy, and rightfully so. Feelings aside, being told you were no longer needed carried such a biting sting with it. He paused a moment, his brow creased as he looked at the man questioningly. It was a curious sight to watch his thoughtful expression gradually change over into something else, something unsettling- though it was faint and brief, he looked alarmed.

Cortex noticed everything, every subtle change, just as he always did. He chortled softly, "Oh... That's _adorable_. You thought _you_ pulled the strings. You act like it's so _complex_ when it's not..."

N Gin watched the two and slowly realized that this, at least partially, was his doing. He recalled that Cortex had his notes still, and it did not take much effort to put it together he needed them to finish the rest of his plan. He felt odd inside because of how well placed his findings were. It made him begin to tremble slightly, anxious and excited, that he had done something right, or possibly something horribly wrong. Nefarious' words prophesying Cortex's impending failure clung to the back of his mind, weighing the rest of him down. He was obsessing over them.

The silence between them was palpable and Cortex took it as a yield, "The portal is nearly done, I just need to make a few small adjustments. I'll admit, I was discouraged for a while, but I've finally had a _breakthrough_. I don't understand what the big deal is, basically you just push a few buttons and turn a lever. A simpleton could operate it..."

"Ah... that explains how you took to it so readily then." He nodded some.

"Oh-ho, don't you _dare_... At least I am making an _effort_. _I_ am the only one doing _anything_ around here." 

Nefarious practically squawked in a short laugh, "Oh that's _right_ how _silly_ of me! It slipped my mind that maintaining _dozens_ of active wormholes without simultaneously destroying the fabric of time is a minuscule task." 

"It's a delight when, on top of all this, there's a constant anomaly sucking away my power, but I've been unable to find it... Yes, it's so _relaxing_." The forced kindness rapidly dissolved as he grit his teeth, practically hissing, "You have no _idea_ the effort goes into something like this."

"I'm having a hard time believing you're making any attempt at all when something as small as the transporter is barely operational." Cortex raised a brow, "Do you think I'm deaf? I can hear the machinery struggling. You're falling _behind_. I think Uka Uka misjudged your abilities to handle this situation..."

"Hardly." He chuckled incredulously then tilted his head slightly, humming aloud in thought, " _But_ for once, you're right in one of your observations. It really is struggling. But I _wonder_ why that could be? I _wonder_ if it could _possibly_ be due to the fact that _something_ is draining all of my resources?"

"It was _your_ creation, and your _'spectacular'_ idea! Don't blame _me_ because _you_ didn't factor in its needs."

"I have never _had_ this problem until I took on this insipid idea of yours!"

"You're just _jealous_ that I figured out how to actually make use of this 'grand machine', and that I can make it _better_ \- admit it."

"No, I _told_ you to forget it! We were spit-balling ideas, I abandoned your stupid paradox project because it's too volatile. You're _overloading_ it- the Time Twister was _never_ intended to be used this way, not for this length of time!" He pointed at him angrily, "And YOU are so _stupid_ for screwing around with it! You have no idea what you are _doing._ "

"Oh then you have a _better_ idea?" Cortex looked at him, too eager, eyes wide with anticipation and animosity, "Come now, let's hear it! I'm all ears! Don't be shy, come on..."

But he could offer nothing, they were out of ideas, all of them. This was the end and the three were at their limit. Cortex pouted theatrically, "What? Did you say something? _No_? How disappointing..."

Tropy scoffed and stared down his nose at him, glaring coldly, "You deserve what you get."

"You flatter me." Cortex tittered, brushing off the threat, "I _do_ deserve a lot, don't I? It's good to see you finally coming to your senses..."

He was flustered now, "That isn't what I meant and you know it!"

"You know I'm growing rather sick of your tone..."

" _My_ tone? _Really_?"

"Yes, _really_. All you do is _complain_ and shoot down my ideas! You act like you're so much _better_ than me."

"Because I _am_ better than you, you miserable little _runt_."

" _Please_ ," He chortled, "You wish. Getting delusional in your old age, Tropy?"

Tropy drew in a breath to chastise him but it was quickly smothered by the hot flash that suddenly burst around them. A nagging feeling of perpetual dread settled among them with the new addition. 

Cortex was the first one to speak, meekly chuckling, "Hehe, g-great Uka Uka, how... how _nice_ to see you-"

"SILENCE!" He turned to Nefarious who was preparing his own remark, "The _BOTH_ of you!"

"The two of you are an _embarrassment_ to me, wasting time _squabbling_ like petty children... I can't believe _this_ is what I've been reduced to..." he sighed out, the sound guttural and ethereal. He regarded the two of them with furious exasperation as he hovered above them, staring at the two of them in his contempt. Uka Uka was more intimidating than Nefarious or Cortex could ever hope to be. Just the thought of him was unsettling, being in his presence, especially angered, was mortifying.

"Cortex!" Uka Uka suddenly turned to the man, who shrank into himself a bit and practically melted into a puddle of anxious nerves, " _You_ have kept me waiting long enough, and you have taken my patience for granted. I will _not_ suffer defeat due to your ineptitude again, and I will not tolerate _this_ any longer. And _you_ -"

Now he was on Nefarious. Being old friends, this earned him a slightly kinder disposition, but the keyword was 'slight', "I expect _better_ from you. You _will_ direct the needed power to that portal. It is not a request, N Tropy. If you aren't compliant, then you are going against _me_ , and we know how that would end... Do I make myself clear?"

Nefarious wavered in his stubbornness and nodded after a moment. Quiet agreement was a good tactic when dealing with Uka Uka. It was clear the two of them were embarrassed, and likely angry, but neither would voice it to the mask or try to refute him. It would be foolish, possibly even suicidal given his current disposition. N Gin was thankful that he was clearly sub par and boring. It practically made him invisible as a result, but being around him was still unnerving.

"Do _not_ keep me waiting any longer, Cortex." He rumbled out lowly before disappearing again, the pulse of energy ripping through them and disturbing the otherwise gentle waves of the sea below. The two men stood awkwardly before the other for what seemed an eternity. Neither wanted to acknowledge what happened or even one another's presence, but they would eventually have to. If N Gin didn't know better, he would almost think given their sullen expressions and silent contempt that they were _pouting_. A small snort of a giggle left him involuntarily and it earned him venomous glares from both men simultaneously. He scrunched into himself slightly and muttered nervously, casting his eyes to the ground in an attempt to avoid the situation.

Tropy was the one to break the silence this time. He inhaled deeply, once more composed, poised, N Gin already forgotten again, "Did you at least _stabilise_ the field? I haven't worked with it in months."

"Of course I'm working on it." Cortex said indignantly, "What do you take me for?"

Some questions were better left unanswered, "How do you plan to get him down there?"

"The natural vacuum should be enough. Uka Uka has requested to deal with him _personally_ , so I've left the technicalities to him." 

He was quiet as he regarded Cortex, and was clearly working something out in his mind. N Gin watched his face as he slowly came to some sort of revelation and he seemed almost pained. The two of them were so dramatic in everything they did. He finally muttered out an agreement before parting from him and going back to finish his work at the console.

N Gin heard Cortex scoff a few obscenities under his breath towards the taller man. The entire exchange left him feeling so perturbed. It was one thing to eavesdrop, but it was another entirely to actively be present and have to watch. At least it had gone better than expected, usually their confrontations became far more explosive than that ordeal. By comparison, that was them being cordial. He was drawn from his musings as he noticed Cortex had left him as well and was making his way to the designated portal.

_Cortex will fail._

"Uhh, wait, Doctor Cortex..." He started with a reedy tone as he scuttled after him.

He sighed, exasperated, his tone weary from the interruption, "What _is_ it N Gin?"

N Gin knew he was pressed for time but he couldn't restrain himself. He was too curious, too needy in his anxiety, "What if... _you_ allowed me to help?"

Cortex was still annoyed from the previous exchange and it had greatly soured his already fickle mood. Nefarious was good at bringing his insecurities to the surface, and being reprimanded by Uka Uka was humiliating, "Are you insinuating I can't do this by _myself_?"

"No no." He held up his hands defensively, "Hehe, I'm just saying... You always do everything alone. I think I can help."

He could see Nefarious staring at him now out of the corner of his eye. He didn't chance a look. Afraid he sounded patronizing, he tried to appeal to the man another way, "I'm just uh... worried... Yes, _worried_ about you, sir."

His anger wavered, expression softening slightly as he turned over his words. It was difficult even for him to turn that back around with a scathing remark. Cortex folded his arms over his chest, thoughtful as he motioned for the man to continue. 

The cyborg went on, "I had a lot of time to think after what happened... I've come up with a few ideas that might work, i-in combination with your own plans, of course..." 

"Oh, I don't know. I think Doctor Cortex can handle himself, wouldn't you agree, N Gin?" Nefarious cut in casually while he fiddled with the console. "After giving it some thought, it's _clear_ he knows what he's doing..."

N Gin grimaced as Nefarious interjected into their conversation once more. Hearing him actually praise the man was disconcerting. It was to his disadvantage, and he was certain it was on purpose just to screw with one of them. Cortex's demeanor shifted again, irritated by the interruption. The vote of confidence meant absolutely nothing but he ran with it anyway, "My, Nefarious, I think that's the first intelligent thing I've heard you say since you got here."

He then turned to N Gin. Whatever softness he'd briefly had was gone and replaced with that familiar annoyance. He was stubborn and irritated, his ego bruised, "I meant what I said before that your help is no good to me. You're a liability on the field, N Gin, and that is never going to change."

His words stung but he took them in stride, "They only expect you and Uka Uka. We... we could _surprise_ them o-or-" 

"I said _no_." Cortex hushed him. N Gin restrained the frustrated whine that coiled in his throat. Why did Nefarious have to open his mouth? He was working him, he could have convinced him. Those words projecting his failure kept turning over in his head and distorting his thoughts. They were just an opinion, but it had consumed him entirely. When the man started to leave he chirped in alarm and shuffled beside him.

"Will you take these, then? Please." He offered him the experimental mines he'd been tinkering with in his spare time when Nefarious allowed him breaks. He'd been curious about the ballistic properties of the foreign metals Nefarious allowed him to work with. The material was so flexible and malleable, and as a result they could successfully expand but also contract to a manageable size, making them easier to hide. He'd been working on them for fun to break the monotony, but the fact they could now actually serve a _purpose_ was elating. 

He didn't like relying on others for help, but again, he was so greedy and clearly intrigued by the design, how could possibly turn down the offering? Cortex hesitated then took them from him, shoving them into his pocket. He felt helpless, almost mournful as the man departed from him wordlessly. This situation was so different from last time, and with his own livelihood on the line now, there was so much more to lose.

His thoughts fizzled away with the blipping disappearance of the orb. He didn't know where it went, the destination reflected was unfamiliar and eerie. He felt strangely empty with Cortex gone, and nervous about what would happen. 

N Gin stood there a moment then scowled, confused and annoyed. Tropy had shut him down. He wanted so _badly_ for Cortex to be victorious. What a boost it would be for his mood, and how wonderful it would be for the rest of them. There would be nothing in their way, nothing to oppose the man in his quest. He could finally relax and focus on other things than formulating plans to hunt down the bandicoots. It would end this obsession. But Nefarious had _squelched_ that with one simple sentence, one that all of them knew he didn't actually mean. It was spiteful and sarcastic.

"I see you and Cortex have made amends." Nefarious began, not bothering to look at him. He was completely absorbed in the apparatus before him, "It's _good_ to see the two of you spending _quality time_ together again..." 

He felt paranoid that Nefarious knew something, especially after his superior's display. But it wasn't his business what he and Cortex were talking about. He felt like he needed to defend himself, but he quickly remembered that no one was actually accusing him, it was his own guilty conscience nagging at him. He didn't acknowledge the comment, "W-why did you do that?"

"And just what have I done this time?" He muttered. 

"You shut me down. I wanted to help him, I..." N Gin knitted his brow, hurt and confused, "Do... you _want_ him to fail?"

Tropy shot him a look like he was an idiot, " _No_. Why on earth would I want _that_?" 

_Because you're a petty bastard_. No he couldn't say that, as much as he wanted to. He mumbled quietly, searching for words but there were none to draw from. His boldness had left him as quickly as it came.

"I understand that you're upset you won't get to be there. I know you want to help him." Tropy was quiet a moment as he observed something on the massive screen, then continued, "But we don't always get what we want. If anything, I've done you a favour."

A _favour_? He sounded so entitled. Tropy was silent while he worked, the large monitor slowly being consumed with a long running string of code. It flowed from him with such ease, practiced and memorized. N Gin said nothing while he tried to understand how in anyone's mind the man was doing him a kindness. He watched him work, his annoyance slowly leaving him the longer he stared at the mass of information being fed into some small bobble he'd plugged into the machine.

"I have better use for you elsewhere." He stepped away from the console, retrieving the small device from it, appearing satisfied. Nefarious then turned and motioned for N Gin to follow him, "Come along. Because of your _dawdling_ , we are now sixteen minutes behind schedule."

 _His_ dawdling? How insulting, considering Tropy had just wasted just as much, if not more, of their time by going at it with Cortex. N Gin rolled his eyes with an inward sigh, obediently following him through the transporter. Cortex was a pain with his time constraints but Tropy was a whole other level of irritation. He shouldn't be surprised the man had apparently actually been timing him, but a small part of him admittedly was. Didn't Nefarious have better things to do than watch the clock and wait for him to come back? Talk about a waste of time...

N Gin thought of bringing this up, to tease him about it, but decided against it. He remembered this was an opportunity, and one he would not like to squander being petty. He also had to remind himself that Nefarious was technically his superior, and he needed to be regarded as such. As always, the trip was short, and once inside he found himself wishing for the cool air of the reactor.

It was so hot in here, and the venting of his head made it sweltering. It was thick with humidity and akin to a summer day gone wrong. He reasoned it was due to the generators all working overtime to support the massive requirements placed upon the machine as a whole. Sweat beaded on his forehead almost immediately and his bangs were already wet and matted by the time they nearly reached the control room.

"So." Nefarious huffed as he stopped suddenly, causing N Gin to nudge into him. The taller man turned around on him and engulfed him entirely with his looming presence. There was that sharp gaze again that willed him to disappear into himself. He was quickly anxious, and he was effectively trapped on this suspended walkway. Tropy's voice was curt and low, expression vexed, "Now that there are no more _distractions_ , there's apparently something _you and I_ need to discuss..."


	5. Amensalism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is... a lot of things. It's kinda heavy and maybe weird, but I hope it makes sense? Sorry for the length, again.

Panic tore through him and clung like barbed wire. He _knew_ , that had to be what this was about. He knew he'd been taking his lectures back to Cortex, and he was going to confront him. What the hell was going to happen? N Gin had a small idea of what Tropy was capable of, how he could so easily entangle one in a net of corrosive, shameful words. But it was merely an _idea_ , a glimpse from his bickering with Cortex or degrading one of the minions. He could _see_ it in his mannerisms that he had the potential to be utterly _vicious_ if the opportunity arose. Though he'd never seen him actually _strike_ anyone, there was always a first time for everything, and this could certainly warrant it... These fears encased him, because this wasn't him merely being incompetent or having a disagreement in how things should be done. It was blatant theft and an exploit of his need for assistance. It was a betrayal.

Tropy pulled him along by his arm with ease. N Gin began hurriedly wracking his brain and all it left him with were discombobulated fragments. He needed a lie, and quickly. What would it be? He could always blame his head injury. It wasn't total lie, his memory _was_ faulty. What if he didn't believe that? He could turn it around on him, call him paranoid and try to console him. Ignorance had worked in the past, what was the big deal in sharing superficial mechanics, most of which Cortex apparently already knew? He could also _challenge_ Nefarious and ask him how he had any _proof_ if there was nothing to be seen, but considering his opponent, that was _risky_...

He was a tempest of emotions, quiet sputtering wheezes leaving him as he struggled to come up with an explanation. He hated that he'd been put in this position, time after time... but it was his own fault, and he would be lying if he didn't admit he'd do it again. It was something Cortex both encouraged and expected. It won him favour, and it made his superior happy- of course he would keep doing it.

N Gin was drawn from his panicked musings as Nefarious stopped in front of his work area and released him. It was going to happen and he still had no excuse prepared. He was floundering inside and felt as though he would drown in the sea of anxiety that rose within him. He gulped and wrung his hands in a mechanical fashion, avoiding Nefarious' gaze all the while. Fear saturated him completely and made any sort of coherent thought impossible. The man lifted his arm in a motion and he twitched, tense and nervous as his guilty conscience reminded him that if Nefarious saw fit to make use of that fearsome metal arm of his, it was certainly deserved.

"You deviated from the design. Why?" he picked up the completed core off the desk N Gin had been working at and held it out to him so both of them could inspect it. N Gin stared up at it, mouth slightly agape and hand wringing stilled entirely. He was dumbstruck at what he'd heard and his rational mind still hadn't caught up with the rest of him. It sounded foreign and incomprehensible. Tropy nudged him and repeated himself coolly, "Well? _Why_ did you make alterations to this one? I didn't approve this."

A shrill, wavering chuckle of relief is all he could muster. He felt absolved from his crimes and a gleeful rush coursed through him with the knowledge he'd gotten away with it. Tropy didn't know. He basked in this feeling, a dim smile accompanying his contentment. It was short lived, however, as any comfort he felt was rendered under that sharp gaze above him. He neither moved nor spoke, he just stood there drawn to full height staring down at him scornfully.

"Hehe, I think my design is more... Efficient?" He finally answered for himself. N Gin wasn't sure how Nefarious would respond to constructive criticism, but anything was better than being caught as the thief he was.

"How so?"

"Well... If I understood their layout right, I thought that maybe if you angle the faces a few degrees more they'll refract the light better and with a wider surface area it can hold more of what bounces back. I think it could extend their life..." He trailed off in his uncertainty. The man's expression was always so difficult to properly read and the longer Tropy stared down at him, the more his self-doubt grew. He'd _thought_ it was a good idea but maybe he was wrong. The expecting silence peeled away his confidence, such a delicate and quivering thing right now as it was. He tried to turn it around and salvage the situation for himself.

"Hhn, now that I look at it again, I think I was overzealous... It could overload the reactor and ruin the balance you've created..." When this earned no response, just the same glare, he wished himself to shrink into nothing, "I-I can change it back, to your original design, sir."

" _No_ , there isn't enough _time_ for that now."

"I'm... I'm sorry, Doctor Tropy- _master_ , uh I-I didn't..." He trailed off with incoherent mumbling and the slow wringing of his hands resumed. Nefarious scowled in turn. That had apparently made things _worse_. Silence was the best choice after that, he'd apparently shoved his entire foot into his mouth and the rest of him didn't need to follow after it. He'd taken a risk and, much like the rest of him, it was a disappointment. It did not live up to the expectations he'd set out for it. The dramatic sigh above garnered his attention.

"At least _stand_ by your work. It's more respectable than... _this_." He motioned to the entirety of him then turned the device over in his hand slowly, watching the way the light clung to and bounced off its surface, "It wastes time... and there are few things worse than missed opportunity from time wasted. I never said it was bad. I just asked why you chose to veer from my original diagram. You're acting ridiculous..."

After a pause he added with emphasis, "You did _well_."

The unexpected praise made his dejection rapidly turn over into excitement and a snorting giggle burst from him as a result. His response was very unbecoming, and a tad embarrassing, but it wasn't as though he could help it. Nefarious did not tease him, rather went over to one of the towering generators and raised the hatch, motioning for N Gin to come over to him. He did as instructed and followed, legs trembling in his giddiness as he walked.

Nervousness still remained but it was minimal compared to the elation he felt at not only having gotten away with theft, but having also done something _right_. Indulgent thoughts swirled playfully in the back of his mind, enveloping him with their kindness. They were warm and inviting and he wanted to bask in them as he obsessed over the small praise. It was wonderful. He was pathetic for nearly being swept off his feet over something so minimal, but he was ravenous for the approval. _You did well._

"Hmm, you could at least _pretend_ to be interested..." Nefarious tapped on the end of the missile protruding from his head then casually spun the rung of the stabilizing fins. He rotated them contently, spinning them to and fro, as though they were some sort of toy. He could feel the slight movements in his head and the sensation was both weird and oddly pleasant. He liked the attention. But then he remembered _who_ was doing it, and that a live missile was not exactly something one should _play_ with...

"I _am_..."N gin huffed anxiously and pulled away from him, a blush creeping up his neck. He had no idea the doctor had been talking to him prior. He must have zoned out again. It was a terrible habit only made worse by the brain damage. He knew that Tropy was watching him, waiting for a reaction, but he wouldn't give it to him. Instead, he stared into the open mouth of the generator, tilting his head further to the side to get a better look at it.

It was as he remembered- an array of mirrors, a perpetual light source, and such horrendous heat. He tugged at the neck of his sweater and then fanned himself with a nearby clipboard. It was miserable standing beside this thing. Nefarious started to hand the core to him then paused, humming quietly in his audible thinking.

He clucked his tongue after a moment, "I didn't account for you being so _small_..."

"No matter... I suppose It's better if I show you first anyway. It's very simple. You set it here. And it will calibrate itself. You _will_ want to close it before it finishes..." He said casually as he closed the panel. After a moment there was a muffled explosion, bright flashes within its chamber, and the golden lights along the side of the machine glowed furiously once more, "Otherwise, you'll lose your hand, possibly more. In your case I don't think there'd be anything left..."

"Oh." He slowly stopped his fanning and glanced to his prosthetic. It was rude, but he wasn't exactly the master of social tact, "Sooo... Is that what happened?"

Tropy looked at him questioningly and N Gin wiggled his fingers in display as response. It took a moment for Nefarious to gather what he was insinuating, but when he did it became very apparent by his sneer, "Do you _really_ think I'm that _stupid_?"

"No, no. Eheh, sorry, sir." He mumbled and watched after Nefarious as he parted from him and returned to his work. It wasn't that outlandish of a question, and he, himself, had certainly been asked worse. He turned away from him with a small sigh as he glanced around the room, drumming his fingers along the side of the clipboard. N Gin was uncertain what to actually _do_ at this point and suddenly felt aimless and empty without a task given to him. The flickering out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he crawled up into the large chair to observe its source- the monitors.

They were all unchanged, still looping in their endless, repetitive cycles. He slid down in the chair a bit, comfortably lounging in it. The toes of his boots barely touched the floor but it was enough to give him some traction to rotate the chair back and forth slowly. He watched the screens for a while then yawned as he nestled further down into the comfortable seat. He huffed a bit, defiant as his eyes drooped, heavy with the longing of rest. He really needed to stay awake but it was almost impossible.

"So... these monitors, how does all this work?" N Gin muttered tiredly with another yawn, "How can you watch all these places?"

"Hmm... I use the rifts. They're all the same, the ones I use in the field are merely more simplistic. Just because the orbs are dormant doesn't mean they are completely gone. They're similar to a camera. Although, I guess a scrying orb might be a more appropriate term in some instances..." He paused then shrugged some, "I quickly learned going in blind wasn't the wisest choice. So, taking from that, I can see and hear everything that goes on around them."

He stopped moving, "E...Everything?"

"Yes." He hummed quietly, a rumbling purr in the back of his throat as he teased, "You sound worried... Have you been doing something _naughty_?"

"Eheheh, n-no, of course not." He chuckled nervously then frowned. Other than stealing from Nefarious, he hadn't been particularly 'naughty', but it was unnerving to know someone may have been watching him. He turned the chair slightly again, swaying with it while he dangled his arms off the sides. Maybe Tropy wasn't some _mystic seer_ \- maybe he was just poking that huge nose of his into other people's business. Naturally, he wondered if he'd actually heard any of his discussions with Cortex. It would certainly serve him well to keep an eye on things, and it would better explain how Nefarious had known his motives...

It wasn't as though he could just _ask_ , that could open him up to a barrage of questions he may not be prepared for. He comforted himself that Tropy had far better things to do than watch the monitors all day. So, he let it lay where it was and smirked some. Apparently they were more alike than he thought, Tropy just had a more graceful approach of his eavesdropping. How clever.

His rotating became more sluggish and finally halted completely as he began to nod off again. The flickering of the screens was pleasant and, at the moment, the chair was the most comfortable thing he'd ever encountered. He dozed in and out, his brief dreams fitful and disorienting as he wavered in and out of a twilight state. Finally, he woke himself up snoring and wiped the drool off his chin, tiredly rubbing the back of his neck. Apparently he'd been slumped like this for a while- his back was killing him. And, of course, Tropy was watching him. The doctor could be rather catlike in his mannerisms, quietly staring and observing, sizing his target up and allowing them to unravel themselves in panic. It was creepy, _he_ was creepy... but it suited him.

"I can see you're _very hard at work_ over there, but I need you to come here for a moment." Nefarious motioned for him. Hesitantly, he slid out of the chair like a slug and got to his feet with a tired grunt. He obliged the man and waddled over to him, standing obediently at his side. Tropy said nothing as he reached for his hand and held his wrist, measuring it between his thumb and finger before letting it drop dismissively.

"Alright. That's all." He said casually as he scribbled down his apparent findings. N Gin rubbed his wrist some in confusion and looked up at the man. What the hell was that about? It likely had something to do with whatever he was tinkering with. Now he was painfully curious. Hesitantly, he shuffled ever closer.

"What uh... What are you working on over here?" He swayed slightly on his tiptoes as he tried to get a glimpse.

"Be patient, you'll see it eventually."

"Come _ooon_." He wheezed out in that tinny tone of his. He wiggled slightly, impatient, "That isn't fair..."

N Gin leaned over to him to try and peek over his shoulder, but he couldn't. The bulk of his time suit made looking over his shoulder, or even _around_ him, impossible. N Gin rested his arms on the desk and huffed, "I want to _see_."

"You're suddenly very interested in my work." Nefarious leaned away from him slightly, clearly upset at his personal space being violated. But N Gin didn't care, he had stumbled across something unexpectedly wonderful.

"I've always been interested in your work..." His voice was reedy and whimsical as the cold of the desk soaked into him. Oh it was _marvelous_. He was overheated and the coolness was decadent. He smiled lazily, a low sound of contentment passing his lips. From other people it would sound something like a purr, a hushed sighing coo of bliss, but for him it sounded like an overworked computer fan.

Nefarious cringed back and N Gin snorted some in a suppressed giggle. He hadn't realized he was venting steam directly into the man's face. He was considerate and turned his head towards him a bit to better angle it away.

"Right..." The man regarded him warily, likely stunned at the ridiculous display. Tropy observed him a moment before he rested his hands on the desk, looking at him with concern. He patted the surface gently, his metal fingers ticking against it, "You seem _very_ fond of this. Should I leave the two of you alone?"

"Hehe sorry... it just feels so _nice_. It's really hot in here... Don't you think so?" He tittered in his admittance and pushed his sweat matted bangs out of his face. Tropy appeared composed and relaxed, not a bead of sweat on his features. He was encased in _metal_ , how the hell was he not suffocating? Asshole, it wasn't fair,

"I think it's very _humid_ in here, but I can't begin to imagine _why_..." He fidgeted with the pencil in his hand, twirling it idly between his fingers while he stared down at him and fanned a puff of steam out of his face, "Is this just another ploy of yours?"

"No. I meant it that I've always been interested." He mumbled, his arm slipping slightly on the smooth surface of the desk. He'd found comfort and could easily nod off again if given the chance, "You're just kind of scary..."

N Gin bristled. Had he really said that _out loud_? The sound that came from Nefarious' throat made those fuzzy feelings disperse quickly. It was short and low, sort of strained, not quite a sigh but not exactly a laugh either. His voice jutted slightly with an inflection of what N Gin hoped was amusement, "Did you really just say I'm _scary_?"

"Uh... Well, no. I meant to say... _i-intimidating_?" He watched the corner of the man's mouth twitch slightly, but his expression remained unchanged otherwise. Intimidating? Really? Surely that would feed his ego. Steam puffed from his port as he blushed, both excited and embarrassed under the man's scrutiny. The incredulous stare he was now subjected to made him feel microscopic.

Tropy said nothing and continued twirling that pencil of his. There was something on his mind, but when wasn't there? He was working out something, brow creased as he thought. Had he said something wrong? It was so hard to tell. Nefarious glanced up at the masses of clocks on the wall then back down to N Gin. He tilted his head a bit, finally speaking, "Alright. I'll tell you what I'm working on. But, I want you to answer something to me first. I want to know about your life support system."

That surprised him. The eagerness in his tone suggested this was something that had been on his mind for a while. He quietly muttered to himself as he considered the proposition. Apparently his idle chit chat had actually made an impression. He didn't know where his interest lay, if he just found it macabre and strange or if he was genuinely appreciative of the scientific feat. He knew the man a little better now, and it might be _nice_ to talk about it... If anything it gave him an excuse to remain nestled against the iceberg that was the desk.

"I think that's fair, don't you?" Nefarious goaded after a lull between them. N Gin nodded some, feeling both wary and delighted at the fact the man was so curious about something he'd created. Tropy motioned for him to sit and he obliged, hoisting himself onto the available stool.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything." Tropy said simply, eyes glinting, hungry for information he seemed to covet.

The look made him feel special, because for once _he_ had something somebody _else_ wanted. Rarely was he in such a position and seldom was he able to captivate an audience. Nefarious had abandoned what he was working on, his attention drawn to the smaller man entirely. N Gin giggled shortly as he began, "I guess the easiest way to put it, is that it's a prosthetic part of my brain. It does the exact same thing that your arm does for you, it makes up for what I lost."

"Oh it's nothing like my arm." He chuckled lowly, "How does it _work_?"

"Well... there's an electrode that picks up on the signal from the component in the brain, and it readjusts itself to correct the missing data. It... Works from the tissue's memory to mimic what used to be there, and to constantly better itself." He glanced over at Tropy who's expression remained unchanged. The lack of response made him feel boring and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "Hehe, it's kind of hard to explain."

Nefarious hooked his shoe under the rung of the stool and pulled him forward suddenly, the metal scraping against the floor obnoxiously. N Gin withdrew into himself with a startled yelp in turn and remained very still, bracing for impact. It never came as Tropy seized him by the top heavy missile, allowing him to regain his balance. He let out a shaky breath and scowled but it quickly faded as the doctor offered him the pencil he'd been toying with.

"Then perhaps you would care to demonstrate?"

He took it hesitantly and tugged over the graph paper Nefarious had been working from, pausing to look it over. The sketches of the clock were so _precise_. Much like before, he sneered at them mockingly. He felt embarrassed as he began his own drawings, crude lines wobbling and uneven. Ugly doodles accompanied his words, "See, most of the right section of the brain was compromised. So, I mean everything went with it- my vision, my motor skills..."

 _His sanity._ He wiggled in his seat again, unease creeping over him. It now dawned on him that hadn't really _talked_ about it since it happened, and that was years ago. It was strange how revisiting something old could make it new again. N Gin could feel Nefarious leaning over his shoulder now, the faint electrical energy from the bronze suit making his skin tingle pleasantly. The special attention naturally went to his head and made him flush. He didn't understand the effect the man had over him, how he got him so readily flustered and embarrassed, or how his presence could make his stomach knot and his hands shake. Tropy _was_ intimidating, yes, but not terrifying enough to invoke such a reaction. Maybe he needed to adjust his medication or something.

He continued, lines wobbling a bit more in his nervous, "Uh, s-so. I'd been working on an experiment before it happened. I took my results from that and managed to fashion this into a life support system. You know, it's funny, it actually worked better than I thought it would. It's a guided missile, so there was already some of the hardware set up inside of it. The sensor in it is very delicate, so it had no problem picking up on the signalling impulses from the component..."

Now he was rambling while he sketched the end of the missile accompanied by little balls of smoke. He could remember the anxiety of working with such a sensitive device, how each spark and tick against its surface would make him hesitate and hold his breath, hands clenched tightly around his tools in anticipation for the worst. Nothing had really changed, though there were still times in pained delirium he would violently beat it with a hammer to try and render it dormant again.

"Mm, what were you working on before?" Nefarious asked curiously, his tone taking that foreign light inflection again that he found so strangely endearing.

"Just... Just something." He chuckled shortly and brushed the question off. He trusted no one with something like that. Though he was proud of it, it sounded too fictitious and with no tangible proof of his theories of mechanically induced cell regeneration, it would just be laughed off as a delusion. Regardless, it was his saving grace.

"Interesting." Was all he said, words hushed. His eyes were fixated on the misshapen diagram of his head. Nefarious was hanging on his every word as he stared at the paper. N Gin wanted to talk about it further, but he was afraid he was setting himself up.

He could easily go into how he had altered the speech center of his brain to the voice module, which allowed him to speak and be spoken to once more. Or should he mention the augmented eye that allowed him to comprehend written words, and that his biological eye was incapable of such a feat? Both had been such a challenge and even now he was still constantly trying to improve them. Without his augments, if he managed to survive, he would be less equipped than a lobotomy patient.

No, this made him too vulnerable. It made him appear incompetent, _less than_. It exposed him to sabotage and pity and was _far_ too intimate. This was enough and he was pulled from his thoughts as Nefarious tugged on the paper gently to draw it in for closer inspection. He was quiet as he looked at the crude drawings pensively. He seemed to be working something out in his mind as he toyed with the small device in his hand. Other than the novelty, he had no idea why something like this would interest someone like Tropy so much. He worked with time and space, and aside from his arm he seemed to have no bothersome ailments, especially nothing that would require something as complex as this.

Tropy slid the paper back over to him, glancing at the clocks again, then regarded him with the same curiosity as before. He murmured, "How did you manage it?"

"Well..." N Gin idly scribbled on the paper as he thought. He should have been expecting that question, but he wasn't. It wasn't something he could brag about, and it wasn't even something he could fully remember. His memory was spotty and fragmented and coated with a thick haze. It all reminded him of a fever dream, and it provoked similar fitful feelings. But something about Tropy, about the way he spoke and the silence he paid to him, made him surprisingly easy to talk to.

"I don't... I'll be honest I don't completely remember. It didn't hurt as much as everyone thinks. There was something wrong with me as a kid, and I had a metal plate in my head already because of that. It kind of... Melted? And fused with the missile after it cooled down, and that helped to hold it in place until I could secure it... I didn't even really manage anything, I guess it just worked out that way."

He could remember crudely soldering the plate over top his head so it would not empty the contents of his skull all over the floor. The days had drifted in and out and he barely had the motor skills to do anything in the beginning. There had been so many stages. Right now what was most vivid to him was shoving the prototype electrode through the empty socket of his eye, the sound it made, the sharp pulling and surging impulse that made his mouth numb. Thinking about it made his face tingle and twitch.

"My face on that side was... Ruined, from the force already so I took it off, I guess is how someone could view it." He said awkwardly, cringing inwardly. He'd salvaged what he could and the reconstructive plate had been his saviour, but it was warped and deformed from the impact, and for the most part had to be removed. A new one took its place, one that was bulkier and thicker to support the added weight of the missile and compress his skull together. Skin could not hide this one, and though unsightly, it was for the better. It was something that needed constant maintenance, after all.

He sighed, burdened and anxious, "After I got it set in place I used the cavity made from my eye socket to work on it. And that's... that's really the long and the short of it. It took me forever to get it to this stage... It isn't easy doing brain surgery on yourself. Hehe, but it is kind of fun..."

There was a pause, "You've done _all of this_ by yourself?"

"Yes."

"That's... honestly quite impressive. You're very resourceful..." He sounded taken aback. Pride attempted to swell within him but it was subdued by the turmoil. Dread clung to everything like tar.

He nodded some in acknowledgment but that was as far as it went. He was too consumed in his own mind to offer anything else. Of course he'd gone it alone. He _certainly_ wasn't going to trust his associates with something as delicate as his life after what happened. Perhaps that was one of the worst parts about it- his associates. Their alarm, their _terror_ at what had happened to him was almost as mortifying as the accident itself.

It was the way they _looked_ at him- the pity, the fear, the disgust... They wanted to help him, but they couldn't. They were _afraid_ of him. He was viewed as some monstrosity. They thought he was delirious, _insane_ because of what he was doing to himself. And perhaps he was. They were horrified he was going to keep it. But they didn't understand if he removed it, he would die, or be some sort of invalid. It was a decision made out of necessity. It wasn't like he had a choice- why did everyone treat him like he had a _choice_ and made the wrong one?

"You know it-it wasn't even my fault. Everybody blamed me, everybody said it was my fault, hehe, b-but it _wasn't_." He blurted, an acidic clip in his tone. He was scribbling now, furious, voice wavering and breathless in his frustration, "They restricted our access to certain materials, they said it was too expensive and unnecessary... I-I-I don't _know_ what they expected us to do to meet our deadlines... They cut my team down, they replaced _my_ colleagues, _my_ crew, with... with _interns_ because they worked for _free_..."

After what happened trust was so hard to come by. He trusted no one other than him to tinker on his projects after that day. He would assist Cortex, and he would occasionally allow the minions to fetch him things, but that's as far as it went. They were _his_ projects. And it was _his_ prototype. It was so horrifically ironic that the project that was meant to offer him security, had turned around and ruined him completely. It was a part of him forever but in the worst way possible. Even now he struggled to make sense of it. Sure, his team had to cut some corners and make due, but it never should have gone off like that. The area was restricted to himself and a few other people. He was always so careful and thorough. This never should have happened, but it _did_.

He tightened his grip around the pencil, a small wheeze of exasperation leaving him. He was barely aware of his surroundings as his thoughts engulfed him. He had just checked it _hours_ ago and it was _stable_. _Why_ had it gone off like that? No one would tell him anything after. He'd wanted to review the security footage, he wanted to see who had been messing with it after he'd checked over it. But no one would humour him, no one wanted anything to _do_ with him anymore. He was too unsightly, too frightening, too _unstable_. They wanted him to take his severance pay, and leave. Of course they made it all about _him_ , that he 'needed time to rest and recover after such a traumatic experience'. He'd believed it for a while, much longer than he should have, but now he knew _better_.

"Did they not provide you with some kind of protection?"

"What? Oh... _Yeees_..." He began hesitantly. That was part of the problem. He _should_ have been wearing a helmet of some kind. It may not have protected him completely, but it would have possibly made the difference between a concussion he could recover from, and this. Why hadn't he been wearing a helmet? He couldn't help but smirk bitterly in spite of himself, "They gave us flak jackets and helmets to protect us in case anything fell, or if there was a nearby explosion. But, uh... I didn't like wearing the helmets because they made my _head hurt_..."

A short laugh similar to that of a hyena's tore out of him, the sound lingering around them a moment before being consumed by the drone of the hub. He couldn't help _but_ laugh, it was so tragically _hilarious_. It was an abhorrent, cruel cosmic joke and he was the punchline. He was an example of workplace safety. He was literally the sad man on the posters with his head in bandages. What a _legacy_ to leave behind.

"Eheheh, I-I don't know _how_ it happened, I had _just_ checked the readings and everything was fine but it happened... I-it just _HAPPENED_..." The lead to the pencil broke from the force he was exerting on it. Ohh, what a terrible place this lead him mentally. He wasn't prepared to handle any of this. Noxious black plumes of exhaust had replaced the harmless steam, the sudden rush of anger working him up and setting off the missile's activity. He was quickly anxious as a result. The pungent, heavy smell made him feel nauseated and smothered. Soot scattered around him and smeared on the paper. He had forgotten Nefarious as he sat there, scribbling mindlessly as his head was some other place entirely.

" _Aaaaand_ they fired me. Hehe, they got _rid of me..._ " He breathed out angrily, clenching his teeth. They fired him for being a victim of their own incompetence. He didn't realize how bitter and wounded he was about it still until he began talking about it. And it was happening all over again. He still had no confidence in his superior's assured victory, and in the wake of failure, N Gin would be in the firing line. He would take the gathered research, he would take whatever he liked, he always had, but he would get rid of him. The industry had kept his research, his patents, and his projects. Just as Cortex would. It was going to happen all over again. And he would be left with nothing. But he couldn't start over again like last time.

He scribbled viciously, every horrid feeling leaving him embodied as an ugly black mar. The anger and fear were deeply rooted to his core, molten and noxious as his head began to fill with heat and pressure. Pain coiled in his skull like a tightly wound spring, ready to burst forth at any moment. He screwed his face up in a grimace, his teeth clenched so tightly they buzzed with pain. His thoughts were a rapid cycle: It wasn't _fair_ , he didn't _ask_ for this- he didn't _deserve_ this- _he did not deserve this, it wasn't FAIR..._

The pencil snapped in his hand and it quickly reminded him where he was. It made those memories briefly hazy as though they, too, were engulfed in smog. He focused on the paper and saw he'd destroyed his crude diagrams, and it had branched out into what Nefarious had drawn. It was consumed by a ravenous, fearful mass. Everything was blacked out, hastily and angrily scribbled over in an anxious constricted mess of tight black squiggles. They so well reflected how he felt inside. The lead of the pencil had broken some time ago and at this point he'd just been rubbing the wood into the paper. He suddenly remembered that Nefarious was still watching him, and glanced over to him tentatively, embarrassed by his display.

He'd abandoned the project he was working on, seemingly captivated by N Gin's words. He didn't check the clocks or hurry him along. He sat there patiently, his expression difficult to place. N Gin tried to say something, to apologise for ruining his work, but again found his mind pulling back to that moment and stole the words from him.

Now he couldn't stop thinking about it. The phantom pains, the dread, the anxious burn in his core that made him feel queasy. It dragged him into that moment and would not let him surface. It sparked something in him that made him want to simultaneously cry and destroy everything around him. It made him want to both run away and withdraw into himself completely and shut off. He was starting to panic and wished he'd never began this conversation.

It had been so long since he'd spoken about it in any manner and the effect it had on him right now boasted how he'd never dealt with it. He always pushed that part down and avoided it like the bothersome thing it was. He thought he was _past_ this. The sound that left him as he tried to speak was pathetic, a meager warped chirp that somehow spoke the turmoil inside of him. Words did not exist and all that lived in this moment were the memories and the atrocious churning in his stomach.

"Its alright." Nefarious said quietly and stilled his trembling hand as he lowered the destroyed pencil from his grasp, relieving him of the heavy burden he'd placed upon him. The metal fingers brushed over his and lingered. It made his chest constrict with a new pain and the commanding thoughts in his mind wane slightly. He _understood_. He didn't have to explain it, he didn't have to be sorry for the display, or for struggling to talk about it. He was uncertain what Nefarious' trauma was, what dismal event had cleaved a piece of him away just as it had him, but he knew that he man _understood_ him because of it.

Everyone he'd ever known was biologically intact, and he wasn't sure what to do with this newly presented empathy. It soothed the anger, the anxiety, and slowly plucked him from his dark thoughts one thread at a time. The touch to his hand was gentle but deliberate, and though small, it, too, was grounding. As his panicked vexation ebbed so did the plumes of smog.

Those fingers resting next to his twitched, brushing against his own again before they slid under his hand and closed around it carefully. For a moment he was certain he was going to die as the tightening in his chest turned into a violent spasm. He felt nauseated and elated, eyes wide and face red as he stared ahead and avoided even glancing Tropy's way.

He tried not to think too much into it. This was just something people did when they comforted one another, right? It was just... _strange_ coming from someone like Nefarious. Much like the previous hug, the surprise of the action made him forget his feelings. He was grateful for it and he returned the gesture, squeezing his own hand around the bronze prosthetic. The metal was cold but the little velvet pads were warm even through his gloves. They were squishy and soothing and he _adored_ them. Nefarious actually allowed him to squeeze them, to pluck at them, and knead them. The fingers twitched against his own and the small, soft chuckle that drifted from Tropy was intoxicating. All of this changed his anxiety over into something else- a shivering nervousness that fluttered frantically in his stomach and extended through the rest of him, making him shake.

"You're alright." His words were quiet and considerate. His mind was fuzzy and thoughts scrambled. A distant rumble of a hum left Nefarious as he laced his own fingers through his and began to idly brush them across his knuckles. Seeing their fingers so intimately twined together, and the sensation of the man _caressing_ the top of his hand did something so _profound_ to him.

It made him blush _crimson_ and something in him twist painfully, but so _wonderfully_ , that he didn't know how to process it. He felt like he was going to explode and implode at the same time. An impressive white plume of steam left his missile's port like a smokestack. It ruined the moment between them as Nefarious recoiled slightly with a small, strained grunt. He wouldn't look at Tropy as he began anxiously gnawing his upper lip. He tried to pull his hand away but the man held it tighter. That stupid prosthetic of his was like a vise. The steam _hurt_ , that's why he'd recoiled. Steam wasn't exactly cool to begin with, and with how overheated he already was it had made it volatile.

He expected anger, or some snide comment, anything but what followed next- he laughed. No, it wasn't even that, it was more of _giggle_. It carried with it the usual devious undertone, but it was softer. It was such a _weird_ sound coming from him, low and wavering and settled deep in his throat. It commanded him to stare. Tropy's face was a bit maroon from the gust of heat that had assaulted him and seeing this made his chest seize again.

N Gin felt pleasantly sick hearing the purr of laughter ebb out of him like the tide above. Somehow it managed to quell every bit of dread within him. The bothersome thoughts were now replaced only with Nefarious, and the entirety of him felt weak watching this display. His smile, was like the rest of him- charming. His canines came to a sharp point, almost like fangs, and it was so uniquely _him_. His smile was enchanting and as it slowly began to fade while he settled down, he found himself longing to see it again.

Nefarious was quiet while he watched him in turn, relaxed as he slowly rubbed his thumb over the top of his hand. He continued to console him in his own manner and it made his heart both leap and ache.

When Tropy offered him another small smile of reassurance his stomach knotted furiously and he _disintegrated_ inside. He was so handsome and his freckles were _darling_. They were whimsical and _sweet_ and he loved how they peppered over his face. They added an inviting softness to his otherwise sharp features. His eyes trailed over his jaw, down to his chin and he smiled faintly at the perfectly groomed goatee. This, too, was _so_ uniquely him. It reminded him of bug antenna, but he didn't think Nefarious had the capacity to appreciate such a comparison...

Even in the wake of first degree burns to his face, he was composed. He took it in stride and even found amusement in it. It wasn't fair that everything he did was with grace. That strange yearning in his chest returned with a vengeance and it was agonizing. It was frightening and made him ill and anxious but a part of him adored it. He felt like he was going to shatter inside in the most wonderful way. And then he suddenly remembered where he had experienced this before. It struck him like a bolt of lightening and his face fell with it. His breathing hitched, shuddering some as the spastic tightening in his chest made it hard to breathe. The butterflies, the embarrassment, the _longing_... Oh. Oh, god no. Did he _like_ him?

"Are you alright, _Doctor Gin_?" Nefarious questioned softly, clearly concerned when met with his expression that likely bordered horrified. Hearing his name spoken so _proper_ and from _his_ lips only made the electrical fluttering in his chest worsen. N Gin couldn't remember how to speak. All rational thought left him as he sat there holding Tropy's hand, fingers still laced together. He knitted his brow and jutted his jaw out a bit more, clearly perplexed and wearing his alarm openly. All that left him was a small pained wheeze as he nodded.

"Are you sure? You're very red..." He finally pulled his hand away as he muttered and reached for his head, gently spinning the fins of his missile again. It was so playful and affectionate and it made him want to _die_.

"No! No I-I'm fine! My uh... My-my system is just... _overheating_." He breathed out nervously, practically whining as he waved him off and pulled away from the touch.

" _Ohh_... I see." Tropy simpered . Another mechanical wheeze left him. _Could he tell?_ Everyone he'd ever liked could tell long before _he_ realized it. No certainly not, Tropy wouldn't allow _that_ to go unnoticed, and would possibly even be offended. They were very different people, and to put it simply, Nefarious was way out of his league.

He needed to stop _thinking_ about this. Right now, it was a good distraction... but it was _silly_ and bordered on moronic. This man was absolutely the _last_ person he should be interested in. He hadn't had an actual crush in so long that he'd forgotten what it felt like- it was a delightful agony, both terrifying and exciting. He felt ridiculous sitting here with his head pouring billows of steam in his embarrassment while Nefarious _stared_ at him with that ridiculous, _adorable_ , lopsided smirk.

"I'm dying to know why it does that... You _have_ to tell me..." He fanned away another wisp of steam with a chortle as he turned back to resume his tinkering.

N gin couldn't help but laugh. It tore from him much too enthusiastically. He wanted to cry because of the intense feeling welling up within him but he managed to suppress it. There was a smile trying to blossom on his face again as he sat there attempting to compose himself. Awkwardness and painful revelation aside, there was a strange happiness in this moment.

He relented and gave a small sheepish smile, giggling shortly in turn. It felt strange to laugh, especially after teetering so close to a mental breakdown. But it felt... _nice_. It made the nervousness gripping his chest relax some, and it made it manageable. The thoughts and memories were still lingering close by, perched behind his mind, but they were subdued for now. Seeing Nefarious actually _perplexed_ was endearing. But he couldn't fault him. The process was rather odd, wasn't it? He decided he could answer him at least that and put him out of his misery...

"Well... My hypothalamus was badly damaged. I can't regulate my own body temperature, so the missile does it for me. I've tried fixing it so it doesn't vent like that... but I haven't been successful yet." It was terribly irritating but so far no solution could be found. He'd found a delicate balance, and it was one he was hesitant to mess with. The prospect of not being a portable humidifier or smoke machine did not outweigh the myriad of risks if he were to ruin one of the most vital aspects of his system.

"Is it uncomfortable?"

"No, not really. It's just... kind of inconvenient, I guess."

"Hmm, I suppose it is..." Nefarious shrugged while he worked, "But in a way, it suits you. It's actually a bit... sweet."

Sweet? He snorted at this. It had been referred to as many things, but never that. It was such a _generous_ way to describe a bothersome quirk. He sat in silence, the heat around him steadily rising again. By this point he couldn't tell if it was him or the generators. The longer the quiet lull went on between them the more this word played in his head, the greater that painful seizing in his chest grew, and the more his discomfort became apparent. His mind wandered again.

Nefarious could _not_ like him and he repeated this over in his head to squelch these bubbling, fluttering moths that beat against his stomach. Sure, he had liked people, but they'd never liked him _back_ and it just made the entire relationship thereafter horrendously awkward until it dissolved. He needed to stop this before it began.

He and Tropy were too different and these feelings were not only absolutely ridiculous, they were also highly inappropriate considering their standing as co-workers. All of this was overwhelming and he tried to comfort himself that sometimes when people worked together they developed feelings, but they would go away. Yes. That was probably what this was, just a passing infatuation. He was lonesome and became attached quickly, he always had. And just in times before, It would fizzle out as the newness of the relationship faded. There was no point in dwelling on it.

"So... so now it's your turn. What is it that you've been working on over here?" He wanted the attention away from him. It was nice, but he didn't know how to handle so much of it in one setting, and he had no idea how to process his revelation.

Whatever the device was, it was something he'd been working on since his first visit to this place. He recognized the cogs and uniquely shaped gears. Among the debris, he also noticed a copy of his multi tool and it naturally it made him feel a bit smug. Nefarious glanced at him and continued working, fastening something together with an audible snap before turning to face him.

"This." He held up the device in a grand reveal. N Gin narrowed his eyes with a dubious snicker. The doctor was _radiant_. He seemed so pleased with himself and all that did was add to his confusion. He could not share in Tropy's excitement. It shifted over into annoyance and he quickly found himself pissed. It was a wrist watch. That is what he was working on this entire time? Really? _Really?_

"U-uh..." He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but certainly not this. A dejected, squeaking wheeze snaked out of him and he slouched a bit, literally deflating as his enthusiasm left him all at once. It wasn't so much the _item_ that bothered him, it was nicely crafted and the way its face gently glowed in the dim light was soothing. But it was the point that the exchange of information was entirely disproportionate and unfair.

Nefarious noted his expression and it was no longer a secret that he got a small thrill seeing him flustered. He tutted, "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

"No, it isn't that- you _tricked_ me..." He knew he sounded petty, but he was genuinely irritated, and a bit embarrassed. Be it vague, he had still shared something he considered very intimate and private with Nefarious, and his reward was the knowledge he was making a watch? It was insulting and it made the cistern of feelings churn violently in his stomach.

"Oh hardly." He shushed him, " Stop being so dramatic. You asked what I was working on and I told you. It isn't my fault you're disappointed."

The truth of the statement just aggravated him more. It wasn't something that he could really argue against. Nefarious took his hand in his own again and drew it near then tightened the device around his wrist. The touch was delicate and it made that expected fluttering came back to nestle in his chest and stomach. The careful attention and a glance at the freckles dotting his face made it hard to stay mad at him. Prick.

"This was made with you in mind." He said quietly as his fingers lingered on its surface, touching it in an almost affectionate manner, "I assumed you would be more excited to see the final product. It was a group effort, after all."

Ah yes. That's what was so familiar about it, the face belonged to the small cube of garbage Nefarious had tossed at him and told him to 'play with'. Could he not even be bothered to fix his own watch? He sighed quietly and turned his wrist over to examine it briefly before resting his hand in his lap. He muttered a meek thanks then asked, "What does it do?"

"It keeps time." Tropy stated the obvious. N Gin stared at him expectantly, and after a moment the man gasped quietly, as though he suddenly remembered something critical. It made him hopeful and he sat up a bit, eager and attentive as the man added, "I almost forgot. It _also_ glows in the dark. I thought you would like that."

He slumped in the stool once more with a disappointed grunt and shifted his gaze back to the watch. The soft ticking was drowned out by the shudders and groans of the machinery surrounding them. It still held that blank face only now bits of tubing connected and twined within itself under the surface, twisted into a lemniscate. His disappointment of the 'grand reveal' had soured any excitement he might have over the little trinket.

Right now he just found it weird and ugly. He was irritated and felt deceived, and Tropy was either stupid or lying because there was no way this thing could keep time. The hands ticked lazily on, but he didn't know which end was up or down with the face being blank otherwise. However, apparently it was made for him. He rarely received gifts of any kind, and he should be thankful for what he got.

It really wasn't fair to be angry, he'd set himself up for this after all. He looked up to the man to offer an apology of some kind, but the scenario seemed forgotten already. He was clearly distracted, staring at the numerous clocks on the walls, his eyes flicking over them, scrutinizing their differences and what they fed to him. He was concentrating on them so intently he didn't notice N Gin watching him.

Everything about him was so curious. His brow creased some more as he watched the clocks, his eyes moving ever slowly as he watched the numerous ticking hands. He seemed bothered, even burdened as he observed the them, but he always appeared that way when he was concentrating. N Gin took it as another moment to admire him, to mentally connect the freckles on his face into star constellations, and just appreciate him.

Tropy never noticed his staring as he turned from the clocks and began cleaning up the left over springs and oil that marred the polished metal of the desk. The motion was slow and lacked the usual flow and harmony that his actions often carried, "It's getting late, isn't it? We should probably call it an evening."

He muttered briefly, confused. _That_ was the last thing he ever expected to hear, "Uh. I... I thought there was still more we had to work on?"

"There is, but not right now." He continued his slow stroking as he raked his cupped hand across the surface, but N Gin noticed there was nothing actually there anymore. The motions were in place as he brushed debris slowly into the palm of his hand, but nothing remained out of place any longer, "There isn't enough time."

N Gin grimaced some and a murmur left him in his unease. Nefarious must be more exhausted than he first realized, and it was approaching his second week of not leaving this place. He wondered what kind of effects it would be having on his mind at this point, and as he continued the slow plodding of his hand against the desk, scooping up remnants that were long since gone, it pulled at something in him that was seldom accessed. What started off as a lie had become truth- he was genuinely concerned.

"Um. _Okay._ I'm going back to the base. Why don't you... Come with me this time?"

He stilled his hands, suddenly aware of what he was doing and dumped the contents into the cup of scraps beside him, "I'd rather not."

"It would be good for you. Hmm, I can... make you something to eat?" He crooned, swaying his legs slightly as they dangled from the stool. He hadn't seen him eat at all during their time together, he had to be starving by this point, "I can't really cook but I could make you a jelly sandwich or something..."

Nefarious shot him an odd look, nose wrinkled slightly in presumable disgust, "Uh, as tempting as that is I'll have to decline."

"Why?"

"Because I'm very _busy_."

"Hhn, but you just said there isn't anything else to do right now..." He pointed out with a smirk and Nefarious scowled. The man had essentially backed himself into a corner by removing his only excuse.

" _No_." He challenged with a huff, "I said there wasn't enough _time_."

N Gin did little to hide his skepticism. He then did something dangerous- he prodded gently against his side where the metal chest piece ended and nudged playfully to try and encourage him off the chair. Nefarious started and leaned away from the touch defiantly with a muffled _chirp_. N gin recoiled and held his hands together, startled and elated at the sound. It took everything within him to not burst out giggling, and instead it slowly leaked out of him like a deflating balloon, shrill and airy in his glee.

" _Stop_ that." He glowered, face flushing slightly, "What's wrong with you? S-stop making that _sound_."

"Hehe, don't change the subject. A few minutes won't kill you, and I can help you make up for lost time when we come back..." He nudged him again. Nefarious had pushed him through his mental breakdown, he may as well try to repay the kindness and force him out of whatever strange hangups he had. The repetition, the isolation, and the sudden generosity of both knowledge and trinkets bothered him. There was something burdening Nefarious, and for whatever reason he'd seen fit to drag him into it. So, he would try to drag him _out_ of it.

Tropy scooted away from him and out of his reach, but N Gin followed after him persistently, sliding his own chair over with an ungraceful screech. He ignored him as he gathered up the diagrams and papers, stacking them into a neat pile. His composure was wavering as his face still wore that strange maroon hue and the crease of his brow spoke of his annoyance. He looked so _grumpy_ , it was adorable. N Gin tittered quietly, "Come _ooooon._ "

He leaned over and nudged his arm this time, his hand lingering. It was such a thrill to touch him, and it made something in his head feel like it short circuited. He better understood now why Nefarious enjoyed picking at him and bothering him on purpose. For whatever reason, it excited him to see the man actually flustered. It was addictive, and it made him giddy and fearless, "Hehe, are you... afraid to leave, or something?"

"Oh _please_." Nefarious let out a nasally drone of laughter and shook his head. He didn't believe him- there could be no other explanation. This man did not strike him as the type to fear anything, but realistically there had to be something. N Gin shrugged and gave a disbelieving hum, inwardly delighting at the sneer that twisted Tropy's features. Oh, apparently that had really pissed him off...

The slight tinge of blush on his face is what really set the little cyborg off. He knew it was from the steam but he didn't _care_ it was so _cute_. More nudging, more prodding, more incessant nagging as to why the man just _wouldn't come with him_. N Gin giggled quietly when he smacked his hand away, but nothing else followed. His jaw was set firm and his hand clenched but he didn't lash out. He didn't know why Nefarious was restraining himself but all this did was encourage him. It made him feel bold and like he was playing with a snake, but narrowly avoiding getting bitten, "Eheh, I just think it would do you good to get out for a while... It's okay if you're _scared_ to leave or something but don't you think you're being kind of... silly-"

"I am not _afraid_ you twit- It is _because I CAN'T_!" The suddenness of the outburst startled him, causing him to jump and shrink into himself slightly. It wasn't angry, or harsh, it was just loud and boomed with his frustration. Though he was still composed, the audible swallowing betrayed him. He didn't know what he meant by that but he couldn't ask, not yet. Words failed him in his surprise. The humour he'd found in the situation before now left him, mingling with his sweat and plodding on the floor.

"I _can't._ " He repeated, his voice smooth and low, but tight. It sounded pained, and that alone dug at something in his chest. Nefarious chuckled in disbelief as he glanced around the construct and ran his hand over his face with a tired sigh, shaking his head. He was hesitant to elaborate, but after a moment he relented. His voice wavered slightly and the sound of it was unsettling, "I-I... Have made a _grievous_ error. And, as a result... I am not stable enough to reenter our own timeline. It's so ironic, don't you think?"

What could someone say to that? He felt embarrassed, even a bit bad, for teasing him, but how could he have known? The entire thing felt very displaced and surreal. It left him feeling cold and empty inside, and a looming fear of impending tragedy pooling in the back of his mind. Nefarious took his silence as confusion, so he elaborated further.

"In this suit, I have a fail-safe. If I become endangered or near death, something of that nature... I can utilize it to merge with the programmed timeline. But... It malfunctioned, and now, outside of this place, I essentially have no temporal identity. Think of it as a radio station, when you have it in between transmissions. Much like that, I am neither truly here, nor there." He paused, inhaling deeply then quietly hissed, "It's like I don't _exist_."

The explanation struck him, and it made him feel dazed from the weight it carried. What did this mean for Nefarious? What did any of this mean at all? Numerous questions buzzed in his mind but they smeared together in a cacophony. It was so pitiful, and ironic like he'd said. But it should come to no surprise. It seemed to be an ever present theme among them that their creations were often their own ruination.

N Gin better understood now why he had been so angry, so _venomous_ when he returned, and why no one had seen him. They found him by nosing around. If Cortex wasn't ravenous for information, and he hadn't needed his help to antagonize the bandicoots... he wondered what would have happened. Would Nefarious have been forgotten entirely? That possibility filled him with dread. He really shouldn't care, but he did.

"What... I mean, what will happen to you?"

"I honestly don't know at this point..." He murmured and shook his head, "It's not really up to me anymore. It's not something I'm able to fix alone."

"Oh. Well... I mean, I could... help you, or maybe Doctor Cortex knows something?" It was a meager offering that, as expected, earned no response. N Gin had little idea what he was doing in this place, and the disdain between Cortex and Tropy was mutual, "Did... does anyone know?"

"No. Only you. It's not exactly something to boast about..."

He couldn't blame him for that. It was rather pathetic, and Cortex would have a field day with something like this. He held his silence and watched the man sadly, observing his mannerisms. They were reserved and slow, but he was clearly anxious as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together, "It can be maddening to repeat the same moments endlessly... Sure, you can alter them, correct your mistakes..." 

Tropy then motioned to N Gin casually, "Introduce new variables... But it's always the _same_ , and by trying to alter them it just makes things so much _worse_..."

He paused and it became clear he spoke from experience. Nefarious sat up finally, his self pity over as he composed himself, "Eventually you just have to accept that what will happen, _will happen_..."

He scooted closer to N Gin and reached for him, taking his wrist between his hands and examining the watch, trailing his fingers over it experimentally, almost longingly, "And then we must learn from that."

"We find alternatives..." He said quietly as he fiddled with the device, slowly, carefully winding the hands of the clock backwards. It was evenly paced and almost hypnotic, and after a time he suddenly stopped the motion, but his hands still rested around his wrist, "And we... make something of it."

He looked up at him hesitantly. The way he said that made the pleasant fluttering seize and die in his core. It was the exact same speech he'd been given days ago, but it was not reassuring this time. A heaviness clung to it and made the words ring hollow. He began to pull away again, but like earlier, Tropy would not relent. It did not give him butterflies, it made him feel sick and frightened. His tone faltered, "Uh... Doctor Tropy, what _is_ this?"

He ignored the question and trailed his eyes up to the clocks once more, motioning towards them for N Gin to do the same, "You see that big clock up there?"

Of course he did. It stuck out among its smaller brethren, and Tropy's image on its face made it easy to find. It was so self indulgent. He snorted quietly. Cortex had portraits of himself in his study, and Tropy had clocks with the same. It was a weird practice he'd never understand, but he rolled with it and nodded, "Yeah."

"The Time Twister will always reset itself as long as _that_ is maintained. The machinery, the pumps, the mechanisms... All of them are important, yes, but _that_ is the life of the machine. Much like your system... it _remembers_ , and it _corrects_ itself. It adapts." Again his hand was around N Gin's, rubbing his fingers between his own absentmindedly, "It's the same thing that is in my suit... and what now lay on your wrist."

"Ah that's... w-why are you giving me this?" Something was _wrong_. The affectionate caressing against his fingers was acidic, it was hot and irritating like salt in a wound. It felt patronizing and it made him apprehensive. Formality was forgotten, "Nefarious, why are you telling me all of this?"

"Are you genuinely interested in helping me?" He dodged the question again, staring at him intently. The small cyborg nodded hesitantly, and whatever reassurance Nefarious was apparently needing, that provided it.

"In that case..." He finally began, squeezing the small hand in his own, "I'm telling you all of this, because I need you to _do_ something for me. I made a mistake, and so did Cortex... and I will need you to help me fix it."

He didn't understand. N Gin's ears were ringing and it took him a moment to realize it was due to the fact no sound surrounded them any longer. How long had it been this way? The watch was still, the hands idle. There was no harmonious synced tick of clocks around them. The machinery had failed entirely, the illuminated sides only occasionally flickering pitifully. Other than the rhythmic pistons of that metal suit, everything was deathly quiet and it filled him with painful unease. A revelation that new heat was radiating from above him drew his eyes upwards, and a startled wheeze left him.

The night sky, once full of twinkling stars and purple nebula, had been replaced with a contemptuous red. In their place were swirls of gathering clouds and lightening, all silent but still horrifying. He muttered low obscenities as he began shaking, nervousness trickling through him and slowly engulfing him. He whimpered pathetically, low and pained, "W-what-what the _fuck_..."

"Do you think you can remember what I've shown you these last few days?"

The question took him off guard. It was so misplaced for the situation. His thoughts were frantic, and he floundered a moment, but he managed, barely, "I-I... I don't know. I don't know! I don't even _know_ what's going on! Stop-stop talking _at_ me and actually tell me something!"

"Alright. The Time Twister is going to collapse with us inside of it. We have, at most, three minutes before it happens. When that happens, we will be engulfed by the time orb _Cortex_ was messing around with... and I don't know what that will bring. Is that _forward_ enough for you?" He narrowed his eyes in a glare.

Anxiety tore into him, severing something vital, "D-doctor _Cortex_ -"

"Doctor Cortex is already _gone_." Tropy said firmly. Gone? He was _gone_? A shrill chirp rushed out of him as everything grew very distant. Even the air around him prickled painfully and it felt as though he were trying to breathe sand. Tropy shook him slightly as he tried to gather his attention again, "No, don't _do that_ I need you to focus... I need to know if you can remember what I have shown you."

He didn't know if he could, he didn't know anything right now. It was so sudden and he felt like it wasn't actually happening. He was dizzy and disoriented. Thinking was impossible in his terrified mourning. A pitiful sound left him but no words, nothing substantial. He didn't have the voice to placate Tropy and reassure him. They needed to leave, but Nefarious _couldn't_. What was going to happen to the man? More importantly, what was going to happen to _him_?

He would _die_ down here. _He_ needed to leave. That panic that paralyzed him before now exploded within his chest and surged through him all at once. N Gin jerked away quickly, hysterical as he pushed away from Tropy and stumbled off the stool. He managed no more than a few steps back before he wobbled, unsteady as the ground under him shuddered violently.

It was like he was standing in an elevator that was desperately struggling to support itself. He needed to run, to move, to do anything to get out of here, but he couldn't. His mind was willing but his body was still, rigid as it shivered along with the shaking platform. He was afraid to move and risk upsetting the creaking suspension. His escape was cut short by his own cowardice as Nefarious got to his feet and closed the distance between them.

"I need you to calm down, I need to _talk_ to you-" Nefarious rested his hands on his shoulders and drew him in, grip tight. The butterflies were replaced with angry bats, tearing and biting at his insides. His touch was corrosive and tainted and he did not _want_ Tropy anywhere _near_ him. Was he really so selfish, and so cruel, that he wouldn't allow him to leave? That he would so willingly seal his fate? Apparently he was. 

"Let go of me! What is _wrong_ with you?!" His module glitched in his panic, some of the sounds matching those of the failing machinery. He shoved him, briefly jubilant he'd actually managed to sway him slightly, but it was futile. He couldn't move, _he couldn't escape_ , and he could never overpower Tropy. He was like an animal in a trap, caught in that vise like grip of that bronze hand. Less than an hour ago it had centered him and kept him from being swallowed by misery, but now it was condemning him.

"You _can't_ leave, you have to be here with me." Tropy's grip tightened further, fingers digging into his shoulder. He wondered if he was he being punished for what he'd done. If so it was one hell of a punishment, one for the ages.

His voice wavered, and he was no stranger to begging, "Please... Please, I don't want to _do this_. I-I'm sorry- I know I made a _mistake_ but I just-I just want to _leave_ -"

"What are you talking about? No, it doesn't matter. I need you _here_." If he wasn't being punished then what else was it? Had he unwittingly signed up for some sort of one-sided suicide pact with this guy? He didn't understand what was going on, but he knew he didn't want to be part of this any longer. He wished he never would have sought Nefarious out, and he also wished he had not come to work for Cortex. Right now he would do anything to alter the chain of events that lead up to the current moment and the helpless terror that accompanied it.

"I-I don't want to... I don't want to _die_ , down here. I don't want to die..." N Gin trailed off in a stuttering babble as panicked, breathless nonsense hiccuped out of him as he started to hyperventilate. He was a hysterical mess as he stuttered wordlessly, his module overloaded and jamming on itself with rattling groans and chirps. His frantic display was so unbecoming for a grown man, but he was petrified. There had been numerous times he wanted to die, but now that he was faced with it as a reality it was terrifying. Nefarious relaxed his grip and knelt down to his level. He sighed and brushed his fingers through his hair, parting the sweat sodden locks and scrunching them in his hand, scratching affectionately. It brought such confusion along with it.

"Look at me." He muttered firmly as he hushed him, taking the moment he did not have to console him and keep him from teetering off the edge, " _You_ aren't going to die. That isn't what's happening here. I promise."

He believed him. He didn't know why he did, maybe he was just desperate for some sort of comfort. But the fact remained he still believed him. The soothing scratching of his head left as the man rested his hands on the device around his wrist again. His finger was poised, shaking slightly over one of the buttons on the side of the watch, "The very first thing you need to do, is extend the lightening rod in the reactor."

"You need to maintain the clocks, and you need to get the reactor's terminal operational. Do you understand?" Nefarious' sharp gaze bore into him with an intensity he had never known. N Gin stared at him dumbly, wincing at the metal hand that cupped his face and grounded him in the present. When no answer was offered, he narrowed his eyes in a glare, be it skeptical or fearful one couldn't tell, "Have I wasted my time on you?"

"No." It was an automatic response, a secondary reflex to appease. The look on the man's face made him feel _worse_. He seemed placated by his response, but it was not reassuring. It burdened him and locked him completely into whatever this game was that he had never agreed to play.

"Let's hope not..." Was all he said as he pressed the button on the side of the watch and parted from him. The little hands of it were spinning rapidly now, abuzz with energy. Everything was so sudden, the disharmonious roar, the very floor below them crumbling and being sucked into the massive orb, volcanic and positively molten with the heat it radiated. Nefarious, the hub, the entire structure itself was being materialized, every particle torn and ripped from its host. All except for _him_. Something _else_ was pulling him, something all consuming and electric tearing him from the moment. Everything disappeared with a flash and a muffled groan of collapsing machinery.

Sharp prickling surges ripped through him violently. It was cold and hot, everything and nothing all at once. Briefly, time seemed to stand still. His anxiety was gone, and everything around him was distant, faded, hazy. None of it made sense. His core ached and quivered with electric energy and the hands of the small clock turned so quickly he could barely focus on them. He was weightless, apathetic, and centered. He wondered if this was death, if this was what it felt like to separate from the world.

But the feeling ended as quickly as it began when his head made contact with the floor below him. He inhaled deeply, rasping mechanically. _Where was he?_ He was confused and disoriented, his ears ringing and disordered streaks and static was all he could see. His optics was offline and it took it a while to reconfigure itself. His body trembled, drained as he felt as though he'd just awoken from some horrific, lucid nightmare. He had no idea what happened exactly, what that event was that snatched him up, but he never wanted to experience again.

He sat up some, resting on his elbows as he tried to absorb his surroundings. It was difficult to focus as his system still worked to adjust itself, but judging by the moon overhead, he could make out that he was still in the time reactor. N Gin glared blearily at the sky above him and listened to the gentle lapping of the tide that surrounded the metal platform. His thoughts that had been so choppy and noisy a moment ago were now still and silent as the machinery around him. He basked in this brief mental emptiness as his senses slowly returned to him. A shuddering sigh of relief passed his lips, followed by a squeaking whine of gratitude as he realized he wasn't in some sort of limbo, he was actually _alive_.

He allowed his head to loll back and stare at the night sky. Something was different, but in his haze it was hard to place. N Gin blinked tiredly, his eyes feeling burdened and aching like the rest of him. They pleaded for sleep, but with the concern of a concussion he couldn't allow it. With effort, he managed to sit up fully and ran his hand through his hair to push it out of his face. He grunted as even this proved unpleasant.

The blinding light out of the corner of his eye made him wince and recoil. He blinked again and shook his head, scowling at the green and purple spots that danced in front of his eyes. With a sigh he looked down at the culprit- that ridiculous _watch_. When Tropy said it glowed in the dark, he thought it would be decorative, he didn't expect it to practically be a portable _sun_. His frown twisted into a grimace as he glanced around again, uneasy, finally understanding what was so different.

Anxiety brought him to his feet, legs shaking and wobbling as he tried to stand. Other than the moon hanging above, _he_ was the only source of light in this place. The Warp Room was silent, the entire reactor still and cold. The only sound that reached his ears was his own shuddering breaths and the waves against the construct. He gulped and took a step back to steady himself, the heavy thud echoing. He wheezed mechnically, darting his eyes around him. It was so intimidating being out in the middle of the ocean, alone. N Gin ran his fingers over the bolts fastened to his lab coat, fidgeting with them as his shaking worsened. He was _alone_.

Nefarious was gone. _Cortex was gone_. Another shrill murmur left him as he knitted his brow and glared ahead. If he'd traveled with Cortex, if the man had actually humoured his idea and allowed him to _share_ his defeat, if he wasn't with Tropy when it happened...

_I did you a favour._

"No, no, no, _no_..." He whispered to himself and shook his head, raking his hands down his face then clutching them tightly over his mouth as he felt suddenly sick. It was _true_. He _had_ known all along, and everything _was_ futile. Nothing mattered, nothing had _ever_ mattered. That is all he needed right now is to have an existential crisis in learning his colleagues were likely dead.

It was too much at once, too much to process. Tropy's parting words, the vague instructions, were lost in a black well of inner turmoil. He glanced to the monitor, lifeless and cast in shadows. Neither his mind, nor his body, were able to comply with the demand. He didn't know what Nefarious expected of him exactly, but he couldn't _do this_ right now.

He didn't want to face the reality or deal with the magnitude of the situation. Shakily, he made his way over to the rift that would take him back to his own timeline and typed in the needed coordinates. Was it cowardly of him to run? It was, he was certain of it, but at his core that is what he _was_ and what he always would _be_. N Gin pressed on the control panel again, folding his arms over his chest and bouncing slightly as he tried to divert that nervous energy somewhere. Why was it taking so long?

It was unresponsive. No miraculous orb spontaneously appeared from the rift. The crackling energy and warmth was gone, replaced with a lifeless, defiant tick of the buttons on the control pad as he frantically pressed them. There was nothing connected to it and no source of power. Everything was ruined, dead, and cold. It wasn't going to work, it wasn't going to _work_. But it had to, if it wouldn't then that meant...

A shuddering whine left him as he paced back and forth, missile fins swaying with each step. He wrung his hands, peeling his sweat laden gloves off for that brief comfort of skin against skin. He was fixing to dissociate from panic alone and he needed something, anything, to ground him. Carefully, he counted the callouses on his hands, the burns, how the scars dipped and rose like valleys and mountains. Yes, that was good. It would be alright. He just needed to be patient, he needed to wait. It would come up, _it had to_. Tics of nervous laughter and reedy murmurs wafted around him, echoing dismally in the emptiness.

Compulsively, he checked the control panel again, and again. His delusional hope rapidly turned over into unbridled rage. He shouted at it, pained and frustrated as he struck it, as though his tantrum would somehow coerce it into working again. With another angry shriek he hit it repeatedly until the panel was a ruined mess of dangling wires. If at any time it was going to work, it certainly wouldn't now. This cycle of pacing, screaming, and hitting the panel continued until he had worn himself out, breathless from the trip back and forth until he could no longer stand. He wobbled over to the the platform's edge and settled there, resting his back against the raised safety barricade. He shuddered and withdrew into himself. It was so much colder here without the warmth of the machinery.

He frantically searched for answers but none of them came. There was nothing _there_ , just a haze of anxious thoughts suffocated and sedated by shock. He was overwhelmed by the burden that now smothered him and he had no idea where to remotely begin. Tropy told him, yes, but nothing made sense right now. He could no longer will himself to move. So he sat there rigid, unblinking and unfeeling. He laced his fingers together and stared down at the flickering green light of the watch around his wrist. Smog snaked lazily from his missile and sprinkled bits of soot over him. He was vaguely aware his knuckles were bleeding but it mattered little, there was only one thing on his mind now and it commanded all of his attention, every other sense lost. Nefarious had _stranded_ him here.


	6. Mimicry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I've been working a lot and had a problem with writer's block for a while and needed a bit of a break, and time got away from me.
> 
> Like with the last chapters, I decided to split this one up into two parts to make it easier to manage. I promise I won't take six years to get the last one up. Thank you all for having patience with me, and I hope this is enjoyable :)

"What are you doing? You need to connect the two components together and solder them in the middle, I have told you this _at least_ five times..."

"Yes and I've ignored you after the first because you're _wrong_ -I know what I'm doing." Gin shot back with an acidic hiss and frowned at the disapproving look that was returned to him. He added, "Are you stupid? Doing that will overload the circuit."

"Right, right, I'm sorry." The other nodded, "It's _obvious_ you're the expert here, this mess must just be for show."

" _Shut up_." He bristled and turned away from the other figure, hunching over the bobble he was working on.

A weary sigh then left him, accompanied with a sneer as he worked. He was too exhausted to fight back or try to coddle the man any longer. This had been going on for _hours_. The bickering, the constant back and forth, and the _nagging_. The endless nagging was grating on him worse than anything and he'd preferred the isolation to this. Even Cortex would tire himself out after a while, he would get bored and move onto other things. But _this_...

His guest never tired. If anything, he seemed to be fueled by the negativity and the conflict. 

"I don't even understand why you're trying at this point. You can't do anything right, you know that." The voice circled around him. He glanced up and crinkled his nose in frustration, setting his brow in a scowl at the figure that greeted him. Just as quickly, he flicked his eyes back to his work dismissively. He didn't want it to be known just how rattled he was.

"I guess I'm being too harsh, you should be impressed with yourself. You've actually managed to not break anything today!" He motioned again with dramatic air to the numerous heaps of rubble around them.

N Gin said nothing, but his anger wavered to hurt. This place was a wreck. It was a homage to his old workshop, the disorganized mess of half working machines scrapped for parts. Or of manic ideas and started projects only to be abandoned. Others were the results of trial and error. The Time Twister worked and hummed once more, but it lacked elegance.

And he shouldn't be surprised, he and Nefarious' methods of practice _were_ polar opposites, after all. He was clunky and clumsy, and his manner of working was very disorganized. Nothing he made was sleek or streamlined, it was bulky and obtrusive. Another wavering glance at the piles of machinery and broken clocks around him spoke of this. The thought of anyone else seeing it like this only flustered him more and bit at his concentration.

The badgering was distracting and as a result he realised he had severed the delicate component he was working on. Another vital piece for his escape ruined. How many had it been by this point? He glanced over to the pile littered with scatterings of shattered glass and ruined gears. At least a dozen, he reasoned. He took a moment to take in his surroundings and mentally prepare himself to start over again.

"Whoops, I guess I spoke too soon." This new mistake absolutely _fueled_ the man's endless barrage of insults, taunts, and professed failures. He was constantly pessimistic and oppressive, and try as he may there was little that could be done to silence him. The man would talk as long as he pleased, as much as he pleased, and _when_ he pleased. N Gin sat down his tools and slumped over his workbench, massaging his forehead and exhaling shakily. 

The pain jolted through his skull like a driven nail. It was an icepick digging into his eye and jutting out from the back of his head. Harshly whispered mutterings left him as he tried to simultaneously appease and condemn the man. He didn't ask for this, he didn't _ask_ to be thrust into this situation. It wasn't fair that on top of the isolation, the sleepless nights, and the deep gnawing pit of depression he'd landed himself in, that he would now have to deal with a seemingly omnipresent personal bully.

Jarring as it was, the company had been welcome at first. But now, much like his current situation, it felt like a punishment. Still, it was his only means of contact and interaction, and occasionally a wise voice of guidance. There were rare instances of approval and comradery and they left him feeling dazed and hopeful. The operative word in this was 'rare'. Right now all it had managed to do was set him back another hour's progress by distracting him. And right on cue, endless droning continued. He couldn't focus on the actual words being said, they were too numerous and overwhelming.

Another jolt of pain, anxiety, and a pulling of memories that he wanted to leave buried in his chest where they belonged. He couldn't take it anymore, it was torturous and cruel. It was worse than Cortex, his peers, his father. No, this man was _always_ with him, breathing down his neck and managing to find him no matter how much distance he tried to put between them.

He lifted his head up, glaring at him venomously and the look was reciprocated. But he didn't move, nothing phased him, nothing could possibly shake him. He was strong and sturdy, an unwavering pillar. 

"Master Cortex is coming back I'm going to fix this." N Gin hissed, "I'm going to-" 

"Oh please, the master is _dead-_ "

"You don't know that!" He said frantically, pointing threateningly as he cut the man off when he drew in another breath to speak. He couldn't take that, it was too painful to hear aloud. His voice warbled with an odd mechanical inflection as he spoke, "No! NO, you don't know _anything_!"

"I know that he wouldn't do this for either of us."

"Yes he... Yes he would!" N Gin sputtered out, offended, voice shrill. Worry consumed him as he was always concerned that Cortex could somehow hear him. The figure gave him a skeptical look and there was something about that 'look' that tore through him. It was one he'd become familiar with over the course of many years and received from numerous people. He didn't know what it was supposed to actually convey, but by this point it felt like nothing more than a jab at his intelligence. 

"He would find a way out and then just leave you wherever. We both know how he is."

N Gin could voice it all he wanted, but inwardly he knew he would be left scattered to space and time. Cortex would not put forth this effort for him, and it left him with a sickened pang of self pity and guilt for even entertaining such a thing. And he was furious, and wounded, about it. It was another burden he couldn't handle, so he rejected it, "Shut up! You're _lying_!"

His companion carried on without missing a beat, "Because of _your_ incompetence we are going to die here."

Gin floundered. Everything else was by the wayside now, " _My_ incompetence?"

"Yes, _you_. This is your fault, you couldn't just leave well enough alone, you had to stick your nose where it didn't belong. You got greedy, and now look where we are. The master is gone, everyone is gone, and _we are trapped here_." Animosity saturated his words. N Gin opened his mouth to refute the scolding but nothing came forth. He wasn't exactly wrong, and that was the difficultly of the whole thing.

"This is _your_ fault." A simple statement from his guest, threatening and dismal sent a surge of dread through him, raking up his chest and spreading through his shoulders to the rest of him. 

It was always the same and as time dragged on and he was stuck with this man, the more caustic he became. He was already in such a terrible situation, why did he have to come along and make it so much worse? The mere tone of voice was like glass embedding itself into his core, itching and smothering like ceiling insulation. Inside his head was a whirlwind of half formed thoughts and memories looping back on themselves. At this point he was struggling to separate what actually happened and what was his own paranoia induced fantasies. He didn't know what was a delusion anymore. 

He closed his eyes tightly and grit his teeth, slumping into himself more and digging his nails into his scalp. This being, this guest, was never satisfied. Everything he did, and everything he thought, was made to be picked at like carrion until nothing was left but the putrid remains. And then was he expected to do with that? How could he work from absolutely _nothing_? _Fuck. Him._

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, _shut UP_ -" He frantically raked his hand through his hair, bunching it up in his fist as a low, reedy wheeze snaked out of him like the curling smog from his missile. An endless stream of threats and profanities bubbled from him like water from a pot. It was too strong to contain and they grew steadily louder until he was yelling, body and mind abuzz with a torrent of indecipherable thoughts and sensations. There were fireworks and lightening bugs that flashed in his head and speckled his vision.

He couldn't stand even looking at him. His lip curled and without warning, he hurled the broken clock at the figure before him with every bit of force he could muster, throwing it into the monitor and shattered it. Silence fell and, for a moment, he had peace. He panted heavily, fists clenched as he glared ahead. It was always the same outcome, and the lab as a whole spoke volumes of his numerous confrontations. 

He had been arguing with his reflection- the voice was his own. It always was. But for now, out of sight truly did equate to out of mind. His thoughts quieted and the buzzing stopped. Silence followed, and slowly the noise of the machinery around him came into focus. With trembling hands he rested his face in his palms, mumbling to himself and rubbing his temples in a meager attempt at self soothing. He focused on the sounds around him. Anything to fill his mind, anything to replace the disparaging whispers. In the process he ambled over to one of the last remaining control panels and sat down, grateful for the rest.

The soft ticking of rows of clocks mingled with the hissing pistons, the pulleys and other bobbles that lines the walls that stretched on seemingly forever. This sound encompassed the area and resonated up to the surface, spanning out towards the endless ocean to be quickly engulfed by the low settled clouds and ebbing tide. It was swallowed under, held tight and slowly hushed by whatever awaited it. It was eerie, clamor and silence all at once; soothing and maddening simultaneously. 

He finally turned his face upwards to gaze at the rows of clocks, watching the hundreds of synchronized hands ticking idly on. One of them was slightly off, he would have to fix that later, if he could manage to actually reach it this time without knocking it off onto the metal floor, or worse, into the gaping maw of the abyss below. He was certain Nefarious would go into cardiac arrest seeing this place turned into a landfill.

This place was not made for him. He was too clumsy and small to reach most things and too awkwardly built to navigate through some of the narrow passages. Nefarious had made it with only himself in mind. All it did was make his job harder, the clocks more difficult to maintain, and it had been a struggle to get it operational to this point. In spite of this, he tried to placate himself with the fact that he had _managed_. In a realm meant for no one but its creator, he had managed to make the repairs for life to resume again. He should find pride in this, but the gravity of his situation took precedence over any sort of victory. 

His mind began to drift off again. This place was doing something to him, and the longer he remained here the worse it appeared to be getting. How long had he been in this place now? Some days it felt like he'd just woken up here, and other days it felt like an eternity. 

In actuality, it had been months.

Two months, seventeen days, six hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty nine seconds. Thirty. Thirty one. Thirty Two...

He shook his head and tore his eyes away from the clock, looking down at his notes, a jumbled heap of scribbles. He screwed his face up in a glare as he tried to decipher the mess. Almost immediately he was overwhelmed by them and set to doodle on the page instead. Ugly scrawling of his missing colleagues accompanied other oddities, such as UFOs and artillery pieces. Drawing a shuttle dropping an atom bomb over Tropy's crude figure was purely coincidence, of course. His creativity was interrupted by the loud clicking of gears as the hour completed itself and started anew. Had he really been drawing that long? 

He must have zoned out again, mesmerized by his doodling and the constant symphony of clocks that dotted every level of this place. Each one required its own individual attention, a few special moments of coddling to ensure it was properly functioning in turn with its siblings. At first it was overwhelming, but now it was a ritual, and one quickly ingrained into him. 

But even that ritual was easily disturbed. This place, though demanding, offered him no means of distraction. At first, it was a welcome newness. He had all the quiet space he needed to figure things out and compose his thoughts, at least as best as he could manage given his own impairments. Initially, it was freeing to be able to wander around without having to watch over his shoulder, to make mistakes and even break things without a barrage of insults flying at him. And other than the conjured delusion of his other half and the abusive internal monologue, that much remained. 

Many times now, he caught himself cringing inwardly, anticipating the worst, but when only the sound of humming machinery met him he would feel simultaneous relief... And loneliness. The charm of solitude had quickly faded and it left him with a deep pang and yearning, and this melded with his ever present mourning over his colleges.

Everything here was so agonizingly still and placid and it made it hard to focus. It left him alone with his thoughts and in a way was hellish. He was imprisoned here with the worst possible company- himself. Glancing at the smoking crackling monitor only reminded him of this and he scrunched into himself in embarrassment.

Around him were the catastrophic remnants of his breakdowns, the sporadic arguments with himself, and his own ineptitude. The once pristine and neatly maintained area was heaped with machine parts, the floors slick and stained with oil and grease, only interrupted by his heavy boot prints. Looking at it all was overwhelming, but at least it was less hollow than how Tropy kept it. The thought of cleaning all of this up in preparation for the doctor's return was daunting... But would he even return? Would he ever find a means to leave this place?

Once again he rested his head in his hands, tiredly massaging his forehead. Day did not exist here, only a perpetual night, and it, too, was doing something to him. He was exhausted and slept, but never was he rested. He did not hunger, or thirst, and even his dreams were stagnant and uneventful. At first, it was a blessing to sleep a whole cycle without interruption, but that, too, had quickly lost its luster. Now he was just fitful all the time, and he struggled to channel it anywhere. He was restless, agitated, _bored_. As a result he was edgy, irritated, and apparently psychotic.

At least he'd managed to get everything operational, for the most part anyway. Through grieving it had been a slow and painful process, and numerous time he'd resided to laying on the cold steel of the floor, simply wishing to no longer exist. He was overwhelmed by the daunting task and frustrated at the imposed isolation. When he'd come out of these spells he'd realised he had been unmoving sometimes for a full week. Unsettling, but not surprising from how he knew himself to be. It was easy to give up when there were apparently no actual consequences from bothersome things like dehydration or starvation.

Surely, there was no one would could blame him for his display following such a traumatic event. During this time, the troublesome fear built up in his mind. In spite of all these efforts, the countless weeks upon months spent working, there was the looming knowledge he may never see Cortex, or Nefarious, again. They had likely been vaporized by the sudden disruption, and literally disintegrated under the massive force of the sudden wrinkle in the continuum. His only purpose now was to manage his own way out, and he felt he was close to it. A few more things needed to be tweaked and then he should have the portals working again. After that... He wasn't suer what he would do.

It filled him with anxiety to know once he left this place, he was alone. The minions would not listen to him, not like Cortex. They were friendly with him, but they did not respect him enough to do his bidding. To them, he was more of a peer, and his superior's lack of respect only cemented this fact. He scoffed to himself and pushed away from the terminal. What kind of bidding would he have for them anyway? Shuffle rocket parts about or pick him up when he couldn't reach the cereal on the fridge? The thought of him being anything significant again was laughable and earned a spiteful snort from him.

He didn't even know what to do with himself at this point, and world domination was appealing in its own way, but it wasn't something he was going to go after on his own. He was here for the ride, to build weaponry, to do what he was actually good at. He was not a leader, he never had been and never would be. N Gin wasn't capable of something like that by himself... And when he was honest about it, he wasn't sure if that is actually his ambition. He was so wrapped up within Cortex's fantasy, that he never considered his own wants. He wanted to create and to build, and everything else was gravy.

This new solitude had forced him to evaluate some things. Working for Cortex was a powerful distraction. It dominated his every thought and his every waking moment, and many times infiltrated his dreams as well. But that distraction was gone, and it had left him hollow and anxious. What had essentially become his life had been taken away and forced him to look at himself. He was forced to evaluate and meditate on his own thoughts and reconnect with his own desires.

He didn't like it. The way things were before was easier. He didn't really have to time to be introspective with Cortex. There was far too much to be done, and so much appeasement to be had. Even when his mind did start to turn back into himself, the sharp nudge or biting tone would quickly bring him around again. In perfect timing, he suddenly snapped to attention. It wasn't of his own doing, no, rather he felt... Disturbed. 

His skin crawled with the feeling he was being watched, and he could have sworn he could hear something in here. But there wasn't anything. With held breath he waited, straining his ears, but nothing came. He raked his hand over his face before letting it drop to his side limply. He looked down at that watch, how the light flickered occasionally but never dimmed. This thing had become such a part of him. There wasn't really much of a choice, as it was- he couldn't pry the stupid thing off his wrist. He supposed that was probably intentional, and with this he thought of Nefarious.

He thought of him more than he should, and it slowed his progress greatly. The feeling he had when the man's face drifted through his mind was unsettling, it made him queasy and his chest ache, but not pleasantly. He didn't know how to feel about him, and the time apart had only distorted his feelings and added to his confusion. 

His feelings weren't trustworthy. They were unpredictable, and often times inappropriate. They were fueled by delusional mania or anxious despair. He had always been disconnected from them, never fully understanding how he felt and always analyzing the situation wrong. Feelings were such a difficult concept to grasp as it was, but the struggle was only amplified in the wake of his constant doubt. And this situation had certainly brought with it a heap of uncertainty.

Thinking about him made his stomach lurch. It made him feel nauseated, and it made his heart pound irregularly in his chest. In a way, a part of him felt used and even abandoned. He didn't ask for this, and he didn't appreciate being thrust into this situation with no warning. It didn't matter if Nefarious apparently couldn't tell him, and perhaps his feelings were inappropriate. But they were still there. Though everything was operational again, that portal leading back to his own timeline still wouldn't respond to him. Paranoia nestled among the negativity.

What if this had been done on purpose? He was frequently worried that he was going to be trapped here forever, alone, with only humming machinery and a toxic delusion to fill the silence. That thought made him panic, his breathing quicken, and the words on the page blurry and distant. It was a slow, dull, ever present twisting in his gut. 

At this point he truly had no idea what to do, or what Nefarious had intended for him. This whole thing was exhausting and wearing on him quickly. He did not like being alone, not like this, not completely cut off from everyone and everything. His conversations with Cortex as of late were often one sided and unfulfilling, but it was still a _conversation_. Though the ones he had with himself mirrored these well, they were more disturbing than anything. 

He sighed and slowly stopped rubbing his forehead, the flashing of the small tablet beside him catching his eye. In a delayed fashion he picked it up, tapping on the screen to stop the annoying flashing, then tossed it back onto the desk with disinterest. There was some kind of activity in the Warp Room, and he should be excited, but all he felt was apathy. 

Instead, he hopped down from the large chair and ambled over to the massive observation window. Gin needed to clear his head. He'd taken a fancy to this area below the reactor, towards the very bottom where the magnificent astronomical clocks lay below a faintly illuminated surface. This, a layer of machinery, and a pane of glass is all that separated him from the sea enveloping the massive construct. It was the loudest area in the reactor, and it was the best place to escape his own head. 

The turning of gears below his feet were soothing and occasionally, in just the right break of sound, he could hear the guttural hum of some animal in the distance, some behemoth. He never saw it, and part of him was afraid of what it actually was, but still it was comforting in its own way. It was the closest thing to a genuine conversation outside of himself he'd had, and at this point if he wondered if he would ever have. 

Here, in the abyss, there were things that lay and wait. He could not see them at the bottom of the Time Twister, but he could see their bioluminescence. It was surreal to watch the display of twinkling lights in the otherwise pitch black darkness. Countless hours, perhaps even days, had been wasting staring at them, watching how they trailed through the water, how they flashed, and how they eventually disappeared. Some were massive orbs, burning brightly with ever changing rainbow hues. Others were small, flittering speckles akin to pixies or glitter. Or stars. There was a night sky above, and one hidden below.

He watched the display for a while and it smoothed the anxious bundle of nerves he was inside. The floor was warm and glowed pleasantly from the lights below, and the heat soaked into him through his feet and made him drowsy. He swayed where he stood, optics shifting slightly out of focus as he was tempted to drift off. But the flashing light out of the corner of his eye tore the fuzzy blanket off him.

With a scowl he turned to it, picking the tablet off the desk and slamming it face down. All day this had been going on, and he'd ran up to check it numerous times only to be greeted with nothing but cold silence. There wasn't even any hissing static, there was just nothing. Each time it filled him with a hope that he had finally figured out a means of escape, and when the opposite proved true, it just demolished him inside and added fuel to the fire that was his caustic thoughts. At this point he was hopeless and frustrated. And again he thought of Nefarious.

He was pissed off that he was put in this situation to begin with. And he was angry because he felt groomed and used. He wondered if anything Tropy said had actually been meaningful, or if it was just some ploy to gauge his capabilities. He wondered if the man actually had cared about him, or if he just needed him there to save his ass. 

Naturally, a part of him was flattered. The science minded part was elated at the opportunity and that someone saw capabilities in him. But the niggling hurt would not abate.

He glanced out the window again but it no longer held its allure, he was too preoccupied with himself now. When he looked down at the watch it reminded him of the teasing, what an ass Nefarious had been, but it also reminded him of those brief intimate moments where Tropy had possibly showed him a glimpse of humanity. It was funny how he had gone from being afraid to be in the same room as him, to this.

When Tropy had first arrived, as pitiful as it sounded, he _was_ afraid of him. He'd meant the little blip that slipped out months ago. Nefarious _was_ scary. He was poised like a snake with a venomous temper to match. He had the cunning to do whatever he wanted and the physical strength to carry it through. What added to this is he knew he was untouchable. He was fully aware that he could do anything he desired and suffer no repercussion. N Gin thought with longing as to how freeing that must be. 

He wandered idly around the room, checking various gizmos and bobbles, but not fully assessing them. He wasn't here, he was wherever his head had taken him. If he hadn't gone back that day, or gifted Cortex with sprinklings of his research, he wondered if any of this would have happened at all. Much like with his failure, he wondered if things really were set to happen regardless.

Many months ago, he had made a decision that apparently led him to this situation. Thinking of Tropy and their exchanges made him feel _hollow_. It made him strangely lonesome and ill. He found himself thinking of these moments often and dissecting them. He picked them apart and obsessed over every facet, as though it would somehow give him an answer to his current plight. It never did, and all it served to do is awaken an aching within his chest. Every thought that contained Nefarious was tainted with the present situation. 

Gin turned from the observation window and he could see the still light had started up again. It wasn't going to stop, was it? He relented and gathered up the small tablet, swiping the alert off and making his way to the reactor surface. The elevator ride there was slow, and the quiet humming of the device was distant as he stared down at his feet, tired eyes mesmerized by the gentle glow of the pedestal. In this little reprieve he was removed from everything else and absolved of all responsibility. The mess was gone and so was the burden. With a deep breath, he relaxed, and let the snippet of peace sink in-

The elevator lurched without warning as it arrived at its destination, and knocked him off balance. So much for that tranquility. With a huff he composed himself and made his way to the massive monitor that had done nothing but haunt him. 

At the surface the air was cold as always, wind whistling through the machinery and blowing brine in his face. If he had to reside in this little purgatory much longer, he wondered if he would begin to rust. Self conscience, he rubbed his hand over his face plate to make sure it was blemish free. He grimaced at himself and set to work, fiddling with the towering monitor's controls. 

It hummed quietly as he started it up, followed by the soft hiss of static. Power levels were good, the lightening storm earlier had certainly proved an ample source of energy. Everything was as it should be, save for the blinking in the southernmost sector of the machine. It was some remote area off by itself, and one that had proved a thorn in his side. He wasn't sure how to get there, and try as he may with an infinite amount of time to explore, he had never been able to locate this problem area. Right now he felt defeated and lacked the motivation to set out on another unguided search.

Gin shook his head and dismissed the warning light to focus on the other areas. Just as he expected, there was nothing here and static continued to dance on the screen. He heaved himself into the chair behind and reclined into it with a sigh. He stretched, joints popping, and propped his feet up on the terminal. The static swayed and turned on itself much like the sea around him and he could quickly become entranced by it if he allowed himself- and he did. It was the closest thing to some form of entertainment outside himself that he had.

He had an active imagination, and had conjured up many stories and events to go along with the squiggling void on the screen. Sometimes, if he focused on the same spot for long enough, he could make out humanoid shapes to accompany his daydreams. Other times he would just stare into it and see what he could come up with. The documents that were splayed all over the desk and floor around him held numerous scribbles of his findings within the digital fog.

N Gin had been sitting here for a while now, or so it felt, and his wandering mind had conjured up something for him to look at. Something was coming into view now, but he couldn't make out what it was. Then sound accompanied it. Relaxation left him and he was now tense and wide eyed. He'd heard this sound before, faint and broken up, like a bad transmission from a radio. It wavered in and out before dying out completely as the signal faded. 

Gin sat up slowly and tried to trace the signal, information and rehearsed code flowing from his fingers with ease as his eyes never left the screen before him. The remaining orbs left abandoned in other pockets of time would occasionally go off with false signals, but they were never so distorted. His heart hammered in his chest as he allowed himself to fall victim to the hope that rose up within him. It had to be here, he _saw_ something, he knew he did. Yes, it was working, something was coming into focus now-

He started with a loud, unflattering shriek, the sound more resembling a tape stuck in a VCR. The image was hazy and distorted by the billows of smog and ash, but there was no doubt in what he saw- and he knew now why the occasional blips of sound carried some familiarity. _It was Nefarious- and Cortex was with him. They were alive_. But...

He rubbed his head and darted his eyes away, hand now clasped tightly before his mouth as he tried to make sense of things. Another glance at the monitor. It was like a train wreck- he couldn't stop staring.

It became apparent the other could hear him as he turned around, face mirroring his own of simultaneous expression alarm and relief. He stared at him making his way over to the orb. After a moment of silence he dramatically arched his brow, " You certainly took your _time_ \- do you have _any idea_ how long I have been _waiting_?"

The cyborg couldn't answer. Was he having a stroke? Gin checked the pulse on the side of his neck, that seemed normal. His body felt fine, nothing was out of place. He hadn't ate or drank anything strange. Bewildered, he scrutinized the monitor, still in utter disbelief and rendered entirely speechless. It was Nefarious, he _was_ alive- somehow. But, no, there was something wrong, something _else_. Because while it _was_ Nefarious, there was something... _off_.

He was a toddler.


End file.
